Commander Shepard: Ymir Mech
by SteamedBun
Summary: The Lazarus Project is incomplete when Wilson decides to retire, forcing Cerberus to use a backup it had never truly planned to implement. But even encased in a hastily prepared mech, Shepard will save the galaxy. Even if it is more difficult this time.
1. Prologue: Niflheim

___**General Alarm Protocol 6.9.02**_

_Initiating boot sequence..._

_Primary processes online._

_*IFF code verification*_

_*Hostiles Detected*_

_*Initiating Combat Protocol*_

_Secondary priority processes starting up in parallel..._

* * *

I wake up to the familiar sound of gunfire, and the marginally less familiar close up sight of brains messily splattered on a window.

"Damn. I hope those aren't mine."

I must regrettably say that my very first thought in my new life is a selfishly callous one.

Suddenly the view in front of me expands, and I see a headless body dressed in an unfamiliar uniform slowly slump against the lower wall. I would examine him more closely, but I feel a few bullets ricochet off of my barriers and turn right instead. A man with a frightened expression aims a heavy pistol at me and rapidly pulls the trigger, seemingly unaware that his heat clip is already taxed to capacity.

"Wait!" I say, lowering my gun, hoping to ask him some questions. Or at least, that's what I try to do. What happens instead is a dozen high caliber rounds from my right impact his lightly armored body unhindered. His body jerks around in a grotesque dance as it flies backward from the momentum of the bullets.

Instinctively I try to move as soon as I hear the shots, to get some cover behind the corridor's corner against the unknown shooter, but my body refuses to respond.

*clomp* *clomp*

Instead my view advances straight down the long metal corridor with a slow and steady gait.

I'm right in the open; I need to get to cover! I struggle desperately to turn. But nothing happens, and I continue to advance. Although I am clearly visible, no further shots come.

Wait a second.

...

Was it me who fired those shots? They came from where my arm should be...I try to look, but I find myself unable to even turn my head.

...

What the hell is this?

Is this hell? My very own personal hell?

Maybe.

Come to think of it, I distinctly remember a rather fatal incident involving a unknown ship and a unholy beam of death.

I mean, I know I may be Commander Shepard, Savior of the Citadel, Destroyer of Synthetics, Proponent of Child Immunization, and all around generally incredible guy, but there is a limit to my survivability. A rapidly depressurizing suit in orbit in front of an already depressurized ship...my ship...our ship...that would probably just about do the trick.

My very last sight before I died was a lot of escape pods already twinkling in the distance among the stars...I guess that wasn't too bad. And there's the fact that I always did want to be buried in space. You never know, maybe I'd be recovered someday when a future civilization scans the system. "Human Data Disc Recovered." No, "Patriarch Shepard's Writings Found!" Heh.

*Thoom!*

My thoughts are interrupted by an explosion from my left through an open doorway. I can't even turn, but I can still see the results, as a single hand lands on the ground in front of me.

*clomp* *clomp* *crunch*

This must be hell...I can't imagine heaven would involve me not in control of my body, shooting helpless men and women. Maybe they weren't innocent men and women, maybe this was some twisted form of justice, I certainly don't know but...I still know this can't be right.

I always did try to do what was right when I was alive but...I will admit it got pretty unclear sometimes. I did do the right things didn't I?

Saving those colonists on Feros, letting the Rachni queen go, saving the council...No, those were definitely right.

Come to think of it, maybe that second one was a mistake. Udina angrily accused me of salving my own conscience at the eventual expense of human lives. Was that the reason I let her go? Just for myself, so I would be able to sleep at the end of the day?

No. That was the right decision. I know it was. It had to be. Udina can go piss on a live wire for all I care.

Maybe it was because I left Kaidan back on Virmire...I sometimes still think I could have saved him.

Everyone tried to convince me otherwise after Virmire, but to be honest...I really think I could have. If I had sent Wrex and Garrus to help Alenko while Liara and Tali helped me take down Saren...

Or maybe Wrex and Garrus would have joined him in death instead. To be honest, I never did get along all that great with Alenko, and that's the part that makes me feel the worst, that makes me wonder about it so much...Would I have done more if it was someone else? If it were someone like...

Tch. I thought I had dealt with that already, but stray guilty thoughts are just like stray cats; very hard to keep away, and very easy to accidentally feed.

*clomp* *clomp*

This would be a rather well designed hell for me I muse as I continue forward.

Lacking the extraordinary self control I had always been proud of, killing in a way I had always refused to do when I was alive, even despite the enormous temptation at time...

A man runs out in front of me in the T section ahead, narrowly avoiding gunfire from behind him. His eyes widen in fear. He knows he can't escape, that he has only a few seconds to live.

He turns and bangs on the window behind him.

"Help me! Somebody." He cries. Behind the window, I see several other men and women in the same uniform, fleeing for their lives. But his cries are unheard, as they too scream as they are cut down in a hail of gunfire from sources I cannot see.

He sinks to his knees sobbing...

A rocket this time. I want to close my eyes but I can't.

Yet another body hits the ground...in more pieces than the last.

Goddammit.

I really don't think I'll be able to take this for much longer with my sanity intact. It's not the bodies, God knows I've seen much more gruesome ones in much larger numbers but...

Suddenly, above his body, bullets fly, and after a brief exchange during which I never slow my advance towards the intersection, the gunfire from the right subsides.

I turn left at the corner.

_"__Commander Shepard."_

A voice inside my head? Probably not heard from this hellish corridor.

A frightened pair suddenly stop in their forward rush, backing away slowly as they futilely raise their pistols towards me.

_"__Commander Shepard."_

"Help me!" I cry voicelessly inside my uncontrollable shell.

The man's head is taken off in a spray of fire from my right weapon as it tracks from the upper right to the lower left. The woman stumbles as the high speed masses tear through her abdomen and shoulder.

_"__Activate Protocol 12.1.01" _The voice intones.

"How!" I can only stare unblinkingly as my left arm slowly rises towards the woman.

_"__Simply do so."_

_**Protocol 12.1.01**_

_"__ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL"_

A harsh metallic voice echoes through the hallway and my arm stops in its tracks.

The woman on the ground stares back at me through teary eyes, clutching her stomach with her remaining arm. She is bleeding horribly, and I can clearly see her ruined insides through her shredded armor. If I had medigel maybe...Hell, that wouldn't make any difference.

She coughs up blood, splattering the red liquid across the floor.

Damn it.

I want to say something comforting, something that might make her last moments just a little better, something,

_"SORRY" _

That horrible metallic voice comes out again...my voice. No, that wasn't what I wanted...

She shuffles on her rear, pushing herself towards the wall to have something to lean on. She is giggling now, from hysteria, adrenaline, pain...A wet, horrible sounding giggle.

...

_"__SHOULD I"_

I make a small motion with my rocket launcher...my arm.

She nods and curls into a ball, shuddering.

Goddamnit.

I would cry if I still had tear ducts.

* * *

AN: This idea stemmed from...Ymir Mechs. No, really. When I was playing, I always wanted one for fire support, mobile cover, distractions. Then I thought about what it'd be like to control one and...there we go.

By the way, I'm wondering whether I should keep the Ymir's voice in all caps. I realize it may bother some people, but I want to keep it for something approximately equivalent to that reason for story purposes. It'll force me to keep him fairly silent in outward conversations for one thing.

The intent is for this to be a full length story of action, adventure, a moderate mix of comedy and angst (not too heavy I should think), and of course, as this is Mass Effect, romance. Seriously, romance. And no, not with EDI.

Wish me luck.


	2. Chapter 1: Project Fail

_"Keep going." The voice communicated to the motionless mech. "There should be a hatch on your right."_

The mech obeyed the voice, turning the corner towards a door covered in red lights.

_"IDENTITY"_

_"I'm here to help. We need to get you off this station," _the voice told it. In front of the mech, the door's ring changed color, before it sliding open to allow it access.

It should be noted that 'told' isn't quite the right word for the voice; as that implies sound, and consequently acoustic waves traveling through an ear. The sensation was more like reading the voice...with ears. Or listening with eyes.

_"SURVIVORS"_

No reply came. It paused for a few seconds, waiting, before it continued down yet another identical stainless steel corridor.

Ahead of it, a couple of LOKI mechs fired machine pistols at an unseen hostile. Whoever they were facing was fairly skilled, as in the time it took for the Ymir mech to reach the end of the corridor, three had already fallen, one from a fairly clean headshot. As the Ymir exited the hallway, yet another mech sailed towards the ceiling, spinning from the momentum of the shots impacting above its center of mass.

The biotic the mechs were firing on was a man in a black uniform. Panicked by the heavy mech's arrival, he quickly ducked back beneath cover.

The Ymir paused briefly, before optics behind its red lights whirred. Zooming in on the man's location through the glass revealed the same mark on his uniform as the dead bodies in the hallway.

_"I AM SHEPARD"_

He blinked. The elevator next to Shepard beeped, and its doors opened, disgorging yet another load of LOKI mechs. Shepard's head mount turned, and the rocket launcher shifted direction towards their center. Clustered together as they were, a single rocket impacting the middle mech was enough to scatter them into pieces in an explosion of fire and shrapnel.

"Shepard?"

The mech simply turned its head back towards him rather than replying. The man cautiously stood, rubbing the back of his head.

"Shit, things have really gotten screwed up if Miranda had to put you in there. We gotta get you out of here."

Shepard looked back towards the elevator, the only visible exit on his side. It was sparking dangerously, the pile of mech parts and synthetic oils both a fire and electrical hazard. Not a hazard for a Ymir certainly, but elevators that have just been hit by a rocket are generally unsafe for use.

"How can we get you to the shuttle bay..." On the other side, the man started to pace back and forth.

_"PULL" _

Startled, he looked up only to see the mech rushing towards the edge.

"Wait!" He yelped belatedly as it shunted power into its leg motors. The mech was far too heavy to stop so suddenly even if it had decided to listen, and it burst through the guardrail and bulletproof glass that once shielded the lower half of the LOKI mechs. The man glowed with the blue aura of biotics, and just as the mech pushed off the ground, its mass lightened. He wasn't nearly powerful enough to lift a Ymir mech, or even render it weightless, but its initial momentum transferred to a lighter mass was enough for it to crash through the handrails on his side.

"Jesus..." He gingerly picked himself up from where he had fallen on his rear from the impact, careful to avoid the shards of twisted metal and glass.

_"SITUATION"_

_"IDENTITY"_

Shepard leaned over him, in a way that would intimidate most people smaller than a Ymir.

"Right, you probably don't know what's going on..." The man stood up straight and looked at Shepard in the optics.

"I'm Jacob Taylor. Head of security here. You were killed in the attack on your ship. Over the last two years scientists here have been working to bring you back to life. Obviously, we're having a bit of technical difficulties." The sound of metal screeching from the left drew their attention, as the elevator finally collapsed in a brightly sparking display. As the noise died down, he continued speaking.

"Someone's hacked the security mechs, so Miranda must have brought your casing online just in case we can't recover your body."

Shepard nodded and waited for him to continue.

"Look, you'll get a better rundown later, but we have to get to the shuttle bay now."

_"CREW"_

"The facility had a full complement of scientists and security, but most of us got taken down in the initial moments of the attack. Not likely to get much help I'm afraid." Jacob sighed, before turning and walking towards the door. "Come on, the shuttle bay is this way."

Shepard did not follow.

_"MINE"_

"Ah, sorry. Should have figured that's what you were asking. Besides Navigator Pressley, a few of the servicemen in the lower decks were killed, but most of the casualties from the attack came from the extra marine contingent you were carrying. But everyone else, most of the original Alliance crew and all of the aliens made it off," Jacob replied.

The mech's head bobbed in acknowledgment, before following him towards the door.

"Check, check, anyone on this frequency? Anyone still alive out there?" A voice sounded from Jacob's radio.

"Wilson? This is Jacob. I found Commander Shepard over in the D wing," Jacob replied, holding his hand to his ear.

"Shepard's alive? How the hell...never mind. You guys better take the service tunnels to the network control room."

"Service tunnels huh. That might be a problem," Jacob muttered to himself.

"Roger that Wilson, stay on this frequency," he finished, turning back to Shepard.

"I'm not sure you're gonna be able to fit..." He frowned.

The hatch behind him suddenly opened, revealing several more LOKI mechs. Jacob dove behind what little remained of cover, but that turned out to be unnecessary, as their fragile forms were rapidly torn apart in a burst of fire.

"Gotta say, that autocannon's pretty damn useful Shepard," he said chuckling as he picked himself back up.

Shepard raised its smoking arm in acknowledgment before motioning towards the open door.

"I guess if you move sideways...Let me go first, in case you get stuck." Jacob went around the pipes in the service tunnel to the other side.

Shepard regarded the tunnel for a few seconds, optics whirring as it looked at the pipes. It raised its right arm again.

Jacob sighed. "You better be careful, because that autocannon does not have unlimited thermal clips." He said, moving out of the way.

The pipes were blown apart into a pile of twisted metal, and water and sewage poured out from the containers on the sides. The mech waded through without hesitating.

"Damn. You're lucky you can't smell anymore..." Jacob said before he was suddenly interrupted.

"Oh God, they've found me, help!"

"Wilson, where are you?" Jacob hurriedly replied.

"Server Room B, hurry, they're out of control!"

"C'mon, up these stairs Shepard!" Jacob turned and rushed forward without waiting for the mech to respond.

"Oh God, I'm hit! They shot me!" Wilson shouted in a panicked voice.

Shepard followed Jacob up and through to the network control room.

"Jacob, Shep...Holy shit, what's that doing here!" Wilson ended in a surprised yelp.

"Right, you weren't briefed. Need to know only. This is Shepard." Jacob explained, motioning to the mech. "Worst case scenario, his body and brain were to be split to minimize losses."

"Split? I was chief medical officer; why wasn't I informed? And how did they even get that thing hooked up so fast?" Wilson asked, sputtering.

"Like I said. Need to know only. Can you move? We need to get to the shuttles."

"I'm not going anywhere till my leg's fixed up. There's some medigel over in the station."

"Right." Jacob got up and walked towards the station.

Shepard looked around the room, its optics whirring as it searched the area.

_"HOSTILE MECHS LOCATION"_

"I'm not sure if you've noticed, but they're everywhere," Wilson said sourly from the ground.

Jacob looked at Shepard inquiringly only to find it staring directly at him. Startled, he paused for a moment to think before he gave a slight nod.

"Why were you here Wilson?" asked Jacob.

"I thought I could shut down the security mechs...But it's irreversible. The system's completely fried," Wilson replied.

"Why do you even have security mech clearance? You were in the bio wing," Jacob continued suspiciously.

"Look, like I said, I came here to fix this. Besides, I was shot!" Wilson said defensively.

"By what? I don't see any mechs here, and they sure as hell aren't leaving any other survivors." Jacob drew closer to Wilson.

"It wasn't me! I swear!" Wilson said, pushing himself against the crates in a futile attempt to put space between the two.

"You bastard, you're the traitor aren't you!"

"I had to do it Jacob, Miranda was going to kill us after we finished the project!"

"Like hell she was! And you killed everyone else!" Jacob replied angrily, leaning forward and picking him up by the collar.

"Look Jacob, you know me. I wouldn't do something like this if I didn't have to!" Wilson inched his hands closer to his holstered weapon.

"Didn't have to?" Jacob's eyes suddenly widened, aware of the pistol Wilson had in his hand. "You son of a bitch!"

"Sorry Jacob. You weren't too bad of a guy either," Wilson said, smiling grimly.

Shepard, somehow having been ignored despite being a giant personification of war, made his presence known by putting a round clean through Wilson's arm.

"Fuck!" Wilson screamed clutching his arm.

Jacob dropped Wilson to the ground, kicking his weapon away.

"Let's get going Shepard."

The Ymir cocked its head while motioning to Wilson.

"Leave him here to rot," Jacob spat disgustedly, walking away.

Shepard did not follow, still looking at Wilson.

"Jesus Shepard, I helped put you back together. You gotta help me," Wilson begged in tears, pleading from the ground.

Looking back up at Jacob, Shepard spoke.

_"INTERROGATION"_

"What, seriously? What's there to know?" Jacob turned to look at him.

The mech shifted slightly.

_"INFORMATION"_

It said, still staring at Jacob.

Jacob sighed. "Fine. We can take him. But you better be ready to shoot him," Jacob said, moving to apply medigel to Wilson's leg.

Shepard leaned in close to Wilson.

_"BEHAVE"_

* * *

Wilson's body jerks back as a bullet pierces his throat.

"What the hell are you doing!" Jacob says, with no small amount of irritation.

"My job. Wilson betrayed us all," She replies coolly, holstering her weapon.

"Yeah, we figured. But we just went through a lot of trouble to haul his ass here. He might have known something!"

"Too risky," She says shrugging.

"To whom? It's not like Wilson could do any damage to Shepard." Jacob says, gesturing to me.

Yeah, what was he gonna do, flail at me with his remaining arm? I glower disapprovingly at her...not that it got through. Well, I stare at the very least.

"Ah, Shepard. Good to see the backup plan worked," She says looking at me, conveniently changing the subject.

_"IDENTITY"_

"Shepard, this is Miranda. She was in charge of the Lazarus Project at this facility." Jacob informs me.

_"BODY"_

God, I hope it was still around.

"I'm afraid not. Your body was the first thing that traitorous bastard destroyed." She sighs. "It's entirely non recoverable." She looks genuinely troubled for a moment before she straightens back up. "Come on, let's grab this shuttle and get out of here. My boss wants to speak with you."

_"BOSS"_

"You'll find out when you speak to him." She replies, already heading onto the shuttle. "Shepard, you should be able to fit in the back."

Not like I have much of a choice. Staying on a station with only mechs and the dead...I enter the shuttle's small cargo hold. The hatch closes, leaving me submerged in darkness.

...

My body is really gone huh?

I mean, I guess I still have it better than most; most people only get one chance of dying. And at least my brain made it out, so I am technically still me. In some respects, the new body is actually pretty cool. Especially the new weapons; how many times had I wished for just a little more firepower in a tight spot?

All the same though, I wish they were able to save the rest of my head.

If anyone had asked me, what made me special as a spectre? What made me stand out from all the others who were, in all honesty, stronger, smarter, and more skilled than me? I mean, I was good, but I saw a picture of Nihlus in action once...Damn. He wasn't kidding when he said he'd move faster alone. No wonder Saren had to shoot him in the back.

The answer would have had to been my mouth. My silver tongue had always been a point of pride for me. The sheer number of problems it had solved, the many sticky situations it had gotten me out of...

Saren, the spectre who was indoctrinated, and who was really the basis of my newfound galactic fame...It's not common knowledge, but I actually convinced him to shoot himself in the head. Lemme say that again. A human despising spectre, brainwashed and implanted by a ancient machine, murderer of thousands if not millions, was convinced by a human to shoot himself in the head.

You don't get much smoother than that.

But trying to speak in this body isn't easy. Moving the mech's limbs is fairly simple, instinctual, tense one hydraulic muscle, relax another. Just like my old body. Sure there was a bit of awkwardness and overcompensation, but I was able to work it out as I went along. But speaking...

A mech doesn't have vocal cords. It doesn't force air through muscles and through a controllable chamber. Speaking as a human was as simple as thinking a series of words or syllables, and relying on muscle memory to create the sound.

Speaking as a mech...I have a series of words in mind in my head, but they don't come out the way I want them to. I have never been quite the tech expert, so I'm not sure quite how to explain the way it works, but maybe it's that YMIR mechs aren't made to have a complex text parser. However it works, whatever I want to say in my head comes out simplified, changed, flat.

Even though I'm able to 'speak', to make the mech produce those God awful synthesized sounds, I still feel...

Mute.

* * *

"So, why a YMIR mech anyways? Those things are ten years old. Surely we could have gotten our hands on more advanced models or prototypes?" Jacob asked.

"I'm afraid that the YMIR Backup Project didn't have much of a budget." Miranda replied, crossing her legs and leaning back into the shuttle's seat.

"Seriously? I thought everything connected to the Lazarus Project had the Illusive Man's full support?"

"Most of our resources went to the Lazarus Project's main focus. Did you know Phillip?"

Jacob thought for a few seconds. "He transferred with the machine interface group right?"

"Yes, to help speed up work on the Lazarus project. Well, he didn't want to waste his team's work and experience, so he made me a deal. He and his team could work on a backup plan using the same technology in their spare time, and I would fund them from the discretionary budget, and occasionally from petty cash. If they succeeded, they'd be rewarded by a significant portion of the proceeds and all of the credit when Cerberus marketed their interface work in the future. He was fairly confident of success." She gestured slightly towards the back of the shuttle. "Apparently with good reason."

"Petty cash? Wait a second, is that why my reimbursements for the replacement rifles never came through?"

"We had to put a freeze on reimbursements for the time being, but we didn't want to halt necessary purchases," Miranda explained.

"Wait a second, so you mean you were borrowing from us?" Jacob sounded mildly indignant.

"It was necessary." She shrugged.

A click sounded from the outside. While they were talking, the shuttle's VI had landed inside the Cerberus station's bay. "Well, time to meet the Illusive Man." Miranda sighed as she and Jacob got out of the shuttle. "Unlock the boot would you Jacob?"

"Time to go Shepard." Jacob said, knocking on the shuttle. The back hatch popped open, and Jacob was greeted with two glowing red circles from the shadows. "Damn." He frowned. "Maybe we can replace that head mount with something a little less creepy."

Shepard chose not to dignify that with a response, hunching over to exit the small hold.

"Right, take the elevator up then the stairs on your right." Jacob motioned.

The mech cocked its head and looked at him.

"We'll get our debriefings after yours." Jacob answered.

Shepard nodded and tromped off to the elevator, leaving the two near the shuttle.

"Something wrong Miranda?" Jacob asked quietly, raising an eyebrow.

"Damn perceptive aren't you." She said in an irritated tone of voice. "What didn't go wrong? The fact that the facility we worked in is pretty much a complete loss, or that the billions of credits we poured into a dead man have just been wasted."

Jacob crossed his arms, looking at her evenly.

She sighed, leaning against the shuttle. "I royally screwed this one up." She said, applying pressure to the bridge of her nose.

"It's not that bad." Jacob shrugged. "The fact that he's a giant war machine helped back in the station."

"That's not the point Jacob. We brought him back because he was Commander Shepard. Because he was a bloody hero. You think anyone's going to recognize him as the man who saved the Citadel from a Reaper now!" She gestured angrily at the elevator Shepard had boarded. "I was supposed to bring him back just as he was before he died and I failed. And now all we've got is his bloody brain in a ten year old mech. God, I hope I didn't just doom the galaxy."

"Come on Miranda. It's not your fault," Jacob said trying to comfort her.

"Yes it is. I was in charge of the project. I should have seen it coming." She said bitterly.

"If people could see traitors coming, no one would ever be one."

"I could have seen it. It's my bloody fault."

"Really? Did you become a mind reader when I wasn't looking?"

"I'm smart enough to have seen the signs if I had paid attention."

He sighed. "Goddamn it Miranda. It's always comes back to your genes with you doesn't it." Jacob said, shaking his head.

Her expression shuttered closed. "That's just the way it is Jacob," She replied as she straightened and headed for the elevator.

Jacob followed in silence, regretting his part in the conversation.

* * *

"Shepard."

The projection in front of me is of a man of unidentifiable age. He looks far too comfortable reclining in his chair, a cigarette in one hand and glass of alcohol in the other. I can't fault his design sense though, because his room has a certain style. The projection of a star at the back is a very nice touch; when combined with the darkness of the room, the single light source brings a great deal of subtle intimidation to the table. His irises contain flickering blue patterns, subtle enough so that they were are vaguely off putting. My instincts tell me that this man was dangerous. Extremely so.

I wait for him to speak, staring at him.

"You're probably wondering who I am, aren't you." He says, placing his arms down on the rests.

I say nothing, hoping my silence will draw out more information than if I speak.

He takes a pull on his cigarette. "I head Cerberus."

Makes sense. There aren't that many groups in the galaxy that could pull off something like this, and only one human one. Besides the Alliance I mean.

That being said, why would Cerberus revive me?

We are not on good terms, to put it mildly. In between hunting for Saren and fighting off geth, I had spent most of my time as a spectre cleaning up their damn messes and doing my best to shut down their operations. Whether it was thorian creepers, rachni, or goddamn husks, Cerberus had shown a remarkable lack of compunction in doing things most people would find morally repugnant just considering. Needless to say, this has done little to endear them in my eyes.

_"WHY AM I HERE"_

"That's a bit of an existential question isn't it?" He responds a calm expression on his face.

I can tell he was mocking me, testing my reaction. Bastard.

When I refuse to take the bait, he nods. "Alright. While you've been gone, entire colonies have been disappearing. Human colonies." Standing up, he continues. "We think it's someone working for the Reapers. Much like Saren and the geth worked for Sovereign. You've beaten them before. We're hoping you'll be able to help to do so again."

_"COLONIES"_

"Hundreds of thousands of colonists have disappeared. Nobody's paying attention because it's random, and the attacks occur in remote locations."

That sounds unlikely. Hundreds of thousands just disappearing?

_"PROOF"_

He nods. "I have a shuttle ready to take you to Freedom's Progress, the latest colony to be abducted. Miranda and Jacob will brief you on the way there."

I nod, and began to turn. It would be best to have more information before I decide anything.

"For the time being, Miranda will be in command."

Miranda? The one who just shot an unarmed prisoner for no other reason but her own anger?

_"NO"_

"Honestly Shepard, if you were fully recovered and the Lazarus Project had succeeded, I'd ask Miranda and Jacob to follow you." The man shrugs. "But you're not. Miranda's a skilled tactician and squad leader. The two of you should be able to get this job done."

_"LACKS LEADERSHIP"_

His left eyebrow rises. "I assure you, she is quite competent. She's one of my top lieutenants and has always succeeded in achieving her goals."

I stare at him for a moment.

_"LAZARUS PROJECT"_

He frowns. "Yes, I can see how that might leave you with a negative perspective of her capabilities."

It's not her capabilities I doubt. But I have a feeling telling him she lacks the same moral compass as I do would not be quite as effective an argument.

The two of us regard each other, each trying to gauge how far the other would go on this. I had a good poker face before my death, and being transformed into a metal giant only enhanced this capability. But this man? He can match it both before and after.

"You understand Shepard, humanity doesn't have many alternatives at this point." He finally breaks the silence, apparently changing the topic.

_"ALLIANCE"_

_"COUNCIL"_

"They didn't believe you two years ago Shepard, and I assure you, two years with you being dead did little to bolster your case. And do you really think you'll be able to convince them otherwise, especially now? Cerberus is the only chance humanity has." The man says, sitting back down and picking up his drink.

"That is why we need to maximize those chances as much as we can. As someone who still has a human body and voice, Miranda will be capable of many things that, quite frankly, you can no longer do."

I can see his logic.

_"NO"_

He frowns. "You need to put your personal feelings aside Shepard. This is much too important."

_"YES IT IS"_

Accepting Miranda's leadership, while possibly practical in the short term, will only lead to disaster. Nothing kills an army faster than two generals who disagree, and I doubt I would be able to accept her commands in a morally complex situation. I do not want to set a precedent of having her, and by extension Cerberus, in command.

We continue staring at each other for a long time.

"Very well Shepard. The outcome for humanity would be far worse if you were to reject our aid so early." He takes another pull from his cigarette. "I do hope you won't take this capitulation as typical. Most decisions are far too important for me to concede."

I nod.

"Go to Freedom's Progress. Find out what's been happening to our colonies. We believe the Reapers are involved, but that's not enough."

I nod, and turn to leave.

It is time for me to do what I do best.

Saving the galaxy.

* * *

AN: I rather struggled with this part in regards to how to make it interesting (Kept hitting the conversation skip when I was playing this part). Lemme know if I at least partially succeeded. At the very least, the next chapter should be better. (One of the few action scenes that I've ever been proud of writing.)


	3. Chapter 2: Inferior Specs

"Damn it Shepard, why the hell are you so big?" Jacob muttered in exasperation as they were forced to take yet another detour.

Shepard swiveled his torso to stare at him.

"Right, sorry. It's just that this is taking a lot more time than it should be." He said apologetically, rubbing the back of his head.

"Nice to know your ability to shove your foot in your mouth occurs indiscriminately." Miranda said sardonically from the other side of the mech.

"Now Miranda? Really?" Jacob bit out. He sighed and shook his head. "C'mon, I think I see an opening in the buildings over there."

The three of them walked over only to find yet another dead end. The prefabs of the colony formed a barrier to the outside, at least for a mech that couldn't fit through many of the doors.

The two humans' shoulders sagged. "If I ever get to meet the planner of this colony, I'll put a bullet through him." Miranda said with a sour look on her face.

"Let's hope he can't possibly have any useful information then." Jacob said, grinning at his chance.

Miranda was about to angrily reply when Shepard slammed his foot into the ground between the two.

"Right. Sorry Commander. Won't happen again." Jacob said, hands held up in front of him.

The mech regarded the dead end in front of him for a few moments before raising his autocannon and firing several rounds. The wall remained intact, with only a few black spots marking the points of impact.

"Prefabs are made to be incredibly sturdy I'm afraid." Miranda sighed. "Rockets are probably not going to work either."

Shepard nodded. "Let's keep looking." She said turning.

The Ymir studied the wall for a few moments before stepping back a few steps.

_"Commander?"_

The mech started forward before slamming low into the wall with as much force as it could, pushing it both forwards and upwards. In the relatively low gravity of the planet, the prefab flipped from the force as the metal links between the structures twisted and broke apart.

"What the hell was that!" An unknown male voice sounded from the other side of the module.

Miranda and Jacob immediately drew their weapons, and moved forward to the left side of what used to be the bottom of the prefab.

Shepard remained stationary, raising his weapons towards the opening. A quarian wielding an assault rifle cautiously poked his way around the module, only to be greeted by a shotgun pointed at his face.

"Drop your weapons." Jacob barked as two of the quarian's comrades ran up behind him, weapons at the ready. The two sides assessed each other, the quarians shifting uneasily at the inequality in firepower.

"Prazza, let me handle this!" A female quarian in a purple hood with a holstered pistol and shotgun appeared around the side of the module.

The mech jerked into motion, head mount rapidly swiveling to face her, startling the quarians even as it lowered its arms.

_"TALI"_

The mech addressed her as it gestured Jacob and Miranda to lower their weapons.

She turned, looking up at the Ymir. "Yes?" She said warily.

_"I AM COMMANDER SHEPARD"_

She stared at the mech for a few moments, her eyes slightly widening before narrowing again.

"Shepard died." She said evenly, with no other visible external reaction.

"Shepard? Your old commander?" Prazza said suspiciously.

She did not reply, still facing the mech.

_"I GAVE ARMSTRONG GETH DATA FOR PILGRIMAGE"_

Tali didn't respond for a few seconds. "But..." She sounded uncertain. She shook her head slowly. "Joker said he saw you drifting off into space with several suit leaks. I-We all thought you were dead..." She trailed off before she suddenly turned towards the two Cerberus agents. "Explain." She said in a hard voice, her eyes narrowed.

"We recovered Shepard after the attack two years ago. His body was a lost cause." Jacob shrugged. "We still managed to get his brain into a mech though."

Prazza shook his head and scoffed. "What cheap novel did that idea come from? This is some trick from Cerberus. That mech's probably just a VI."

Tali remained silent, staring at the YMIR.

"You can't seriously be thinking that's your old commander?" He said incredulously.

_"NOT A VI"_

The mech rocked slightly, weight transferring from foot to foot.

_"I THINK"_

Miranda stepped in. "This conversation isn't getting us anywhere. We're here to find out what happened to those missing colonists."

Tali nodded, still looking at the mech. "Perhaps we can work together. We're looking for a young quarian named Veetor. He was here on Pilgrimage."

"Here?" Jacob said as he looked around. "Why?" He asked, with a reasonable amount of disbelief.

"Veetor liked the idea of helping a small settlement for his Pilgrimage, he was always...ah...nervous in crowds."

"She means that he was unstable. Combine that with damage to his CO2 scrubbers and an infection from open air exposure, and he's likely delirious." Prazza interjected.

"When he saw us landing, he hid in a warehouse on the far side of town. We suspect he also programmed the mechs to shoot anything that moves." Tali added.

"Veetor may be able to tell us what happened here Commander. We need to find him." Miranda said to Shepard, who nodded in response.

"I'm not going to let Cerberus take him!" Prazza said angrily.

"Neither am I, Prazza." Tali said, with a small yet noticeable amount of irritation in her voice from being interrupted yet again. Turning back to Shepard she continued. "Head for the warehouse through the center of the colony. We'll circle around the far side and draw off some of the drones to clear you a path.

He nodded.

_"JACOB"_

"Commander?"

_"GO WITH TALI"_

Jacob blinked in surprise. "Wait, why?"

"Good idea Commander. Jacob's presence will make sure that neither one of us can get there and leave without the other knowing." Miranda said, nodding.

Tali crossed her arms. "You don't trust me?" she asked the mech, her tone unreadable.

Shepard stayed silent for a few seconds.

_"PROTECTION"_

"We don't need any of your help Cerberus!" Prazza responded angrily.

The mech looked at him briefly before ignoring him.

_"LET'S GO"_

It nodded at Tali and turned to leave.

* * *

Tali watched silently as the large mech turned and left, the woman in a white Cerberus uniform following closely behind.

Her squad shifted nervously behind her, eying the Cerberus operative who had stayed behind.

"Tali'Zorah?"

Jacob interrupted her thoughts, holding his hand out as he walked towards her.

"I've read Shepard's reports from two years ago; it's good to get to meet someone who played such a large role in saving the galaxy." He says, his face set in an honest and open expression.

Tali crossed her arms, refusing his hand. "Cerberus endangered the safety of the Fleet. Don't make nice." She told him curtly.

His face showed slight disappointment before it turned neutral. "I wasn't part of the incident with the Migrant Fleet, but I understand your distrust." He said diplomatically.

She glowered at him for a few seconds, unmollified by his words. "Prazza, take point." She said, turning to move towards their destination.

"What? I'm not going to turn my back to that Cerberus operative!" Prazza protested.

"I'll handle him." She said, her voice irritated.

Prazza was about to voice another challenge, but Tali cut him off. "Enough Prazza. If you can't follow orders, go wait on the ship!" She finished angrily, glaring at him.

The two stared at each other for a few tense moments before he gave in, motioning with his head for the rest of his squad to follow him forward.

"I hadn't realized discipline was so lax in the Fleet Marines." Jacob muttered softly, a frown on his face as they followed Prazza's squad.

"There are...unusual circumstances. Prazza believes I am unqualified to be in charge of this mission." She informed him in a frustrated tone.

He glanced at her in surprise.

"Yes?"

"Well, I'm just surprised you volunteered any information." Jacob replied.

"And was it valuable?" She asked dryly.

He shrugged. "Not really my department. I'm just a soldier."

"The Alliance has soldiers. Cerberus has operatives and hired guns." She shot back.

He winced and rubbed the back of his head. "Look, I might not agree with everything Cerberus has done in the past, but they're the only group doing anything about these missing colonies." He paused slightly. "I'm pretty sure Shepard will agree with me." He said, and looked at her from the corner of his eye to try to gauge her reaction to his last words.

Only to find her already staring at him. "You're not very good at this are you?"

"Like I said, soldier. Not so good at subtlety." He chuckled as the two of them turned the corner. Jacob bumped into the muzzle of Prazza's rifle, and looked up to see the quarian's squad behind him with their weapons aimed at Jacob. "Shit."

"What do you think you're doing Prazza?" Tali asked angrily.

"Making sure we can retrieve Veetor." Prazza answered smugly.

"You will stand down. Now!"

"Or what, you'll go running off to tell on us to your father?" Prazza said insolently, his rifle still pressed against Jacob's chest.

She straightened, her stance firm. "When we return to the Fleet, you will be charged with insubordination and dereliction of duty." She said coldly.

"Dereliction of duty? I'm not the one neglecting their duty! If we don't get there first, Cerberus won't let us rescue Veetor without a fight! Just because of some Cerberus trick imitating your old commander, now you think that they'll honor their word?" Prazza's finger tightened around the trigger.

Her eyes narrowed. "Prazza, if you pull that trigger I will beat you so hard with the butt of my shotgun that you will wish I had used the other end."

He flinched, his finger loosening slightly, before he regained his resolve. "The Admiralty Board will understand my actions to be the correct ones. We can't trust Cerberus."

She drew her hand downward over her faceplate. "Prazza, use your brain for once. Yes, we could get to Veetor first. Extracting him and making it back to the shuttle without interference? Our best chance is not to engage in a firefight if we can."

The quarians behind Prazza shifted nervously. Sensing that he was losing control over the situation, Prazza snarled, "What do you know? You barely have any military experience in the Fleet Marines at all! We're capable of making the extraction, right marines?"

Both sides remained still for a few moments, before the silence was broken by Tali's sigh. "Jacob, please drop your weapons." He looked at her skeptically, and she nodded at him.

"I am going to be so pissed if I end up dead." He grumbled, letting his shotgun and gun belt fall to the ground. One of Prazza's squad darted forward and picked them up. Prazza looked at her, his body language uncertain.

Tali crossed her arms. "Aren't you in a hurry?" She said calmly.

Prazza began to back up, his rifle still pointed at Jacob, and motioned his squad to continue forward. Tali and Jacob waited for a few seconds for the sound of their footsteps to disappear.

"Shouldn't you have gone..." Jacob started, as he lifted his hand to his ear, before Tali held up her hand for silence, already having radioed the mech.

"Prazza and his squad just rushed ahead. They want to find Veetor and take him away before you get there." She informed them

_"JACOB"_

The mech's voice sounded over the channel.

"Sorry Commander. They got the jump on me. I'm unharmed, but they took my weapons away." He answered.

"Jacob, what the hell?" Miranda cut in.

"Just wasn't expecting to get stabbed in the back again quite so soon." Jacob said defensively.

"Goddamn it Jacob."

"Give me a break Miranda, what the hell was I supposed to do huh? I'm not sure if you noticed, but there are a lot more quarians than there are Jacobs."

"How about doing your damn job?" She spoke loudly over a spate of autocannon fire in the background.

"Oh. I see." Jacob said, crossing his arms. "I see where this is coming from. You're still pissed about losing Shepard's body aren't you? What the hell, first you blame yourself, and now you're blaming me?"

"You know what? Yes, yes I am. What the hell were you doing? You were in charge of security, of making sure that our project was safe! Shepard's body should have been your first priority!"

"I told you before, we didn't have nearly enough human security! You were always so confident in those mechs as a solution; it was always 'No Jacob, we can't hire any more people. The more people included in this project, the more opportunity there is for sabotage and leaks. No Jacob, the mechs will be able to handle whatever problem comes up.' And guess who was right? I was! If we had more security, we might not be in this this situation. Maybe if you actually listened occasionally instead of always acting so goddamn superior!"

"You son of a bitch." She spat venomously. "I remember that meeting and we both agreed that using mechs was the best solution."

"Only because I realized that you were completely and utterly impossible to convince that someone else might, just might be right!"

"Are they usually like this?" Tali asked the mech quietly on a separate channel, as she began to cautiously trail Prazza's squad.

An explosion sounded over the com, the sound trailing off into the dying squeal of malfunctioning mechs.

_"HOPE NOT"_

The mech said, before opening up with its cannon.

Behind her, Tali could still hear Jacob occupied with Miranda.

"Are you..." Tali began hesitantly. "Do you have any proof..." She trailed off.

The Ymir was silent for a few moments, during which only the thud of its footsteps and the continuing argument could be heard over her com.

_"NO"_

"I see." She said quietly. "And Cerberus?"

Pneumatics in the mech's joints hissed, releasing built up pressure as its shoulders sagged.

_"__LIMITED OPTIONS"_

Tali paused, considering her next words carefully. "It was suspected that Cerberus may be behind the disappearing colonies."

_"__CONCLUSION"_

"The timeline doesn't quite fit." She sighed. "I hope Veetor can tell us more."

Suddenly Prazza's voice crackled over Tali's com.

"Requesting assistance! We've been pinned down by a heavy mech!"

"Status?" She asked sharply.

"Some of us managed to make it to cover, but we're not going to last long! We're down to five; the mech ambushed us in a open corridor!"

"Damn it!" Tali swore as she began to run. "Shepard, Veetor managed to reprogram a heavy mech! Its tearing Prazza's squad apart!"

* * *

_"UNDERSTOOD"_

_"MIRANDA"_

"Yes Commander?" She answered irritably, pausing her and Jacob's argument.

_"HASTE"_

She nodded, drawing her hands through her hair, the small gesture accompanied by a dramatic shift in facial expression. "Sorry Commander." She said more calmly, catching up with the mech as his stride lengthened. "I assume we will be intercepting Prazza's squad on their way to their landing site?"

_"__VEETOR ACTIVATED HEAVY MECH"_

"I...see." She paused. "Well, they did want to get to Veetor first. Orders, Commander?" She asked neutrally.

_"__RECOMMENDATION"_

The mech swiveled his head and torso to look at her as he continued moving.

She raised an eyebrow. "We will have a better chance of defeating the mech if we attack while the quarians are still alive."

Shepard nodded in response, turning forward again. She continued dryly. "Next time you intend to test me Commander, make it at least a little meaningful."

The mech shrugged unapologetically.

"Shepard, Prazza's squad's fallen back to the loading bay. They're not going to last much longer! Let me know as soon as I can open the bay doors!" Tali radioed urgently as they drew closer to the doors.

Miranda took cover by the wall. "Commander, I need to let you know. They had to strip out a lot of the armor and barriers to fit you in the Ymir, so compared to an equivalent heavy mech, your specs will not be up to par. As your model is a smaller anti personnel one, your autocannon rounds will most likely also have substantially less piercing power than the enemy's."

_"OPEN"_

Miranda continued talking. "Alright, so this is how we'll do it. Jacob's lost his weapons, but he should still be able to slow it down with biotics as soon as its shields are down. I'll overload its shields, and between the two of us we should be able to whittle down..."

The mech didn't wait for her to finish, already rushing towards the opening door.

"Commander!"

A short distance ahead of him, three quarians fled the heavy mech, their outdated weapons having little effect on its armor and shields. One was rapidly cut down in a hail of fire from the autocannon, his own shields doing little to stop the masses from piercing his body. Another stumbled and fell at the mech's feet; the mech crushed her lower body, the snap of bones clearly audible, before riddling her upper half with bullets.

Shepard kept moving forward, firing a rocket at the enemy mech. It exploded harmlessly against its barriers, the kinetic energy of the explosion and shrapnel harmlessly diverted, but it was enough to make it recognize him as the greatest threat.

Bracing itself with its feet for extra stability, it raised its left arm, preparing to fire a rocket in return. Shepard's optics whirred, focusing on the angle and stance of the mech. As the rocket launched, volatile chemicals exploded within radial pistons inside of Shepard's chest, shunting their energy into a tremendous angular impulse. The rocket passed harmlessly in front of his chest as his torso spun to the right, exploding behind him. Accumulators hissed, absorbing excess movement in a spring like fashion.

The enemy mech was already shifting stances as soon as its rocket left the barrel, bracing itself to use its autocannon, but Shepard had already closed the distance. It managed to get off a few rounds nevertheless, and Shepard's shields flickered from the impacts.

Only a few feet away, Shepard planted his legs and slammed it in the optics with his autocannon, shifting a majority of his forward momentum into his arm even as pneumatic springs released their stored energy into the blow. The enemy mech's armored head warped and deformed as twisted scraps of metal flew from the impact.

Even as lights in its head flickered from the damage, backup systems and redundancies were struggling to bring function back online. Not letting it have the chance to recover, Shepard's autocannon whirred to life. The rounds slammed into the head, the sheer force ripping the head off, sending it bouncing off the wall behind the enemy mech.

The headless mech's neck crackled, its electrical connections shorted. Shepard pushed it hard in the chest with his rocket launcher, before bracing himself and firing at close range. The rocket's explosion, entirely too close to both mechs, overloaded his shields, the shimmery barrier cracking and splintering, but the impact had the intended effect, shoving the mech into the opposing wall. It slumped to the ground sparking, its body limp.

Shepard turned back to his squad. As he moved towards them, the enemy mech exploded in an enormous ball of fire, the explosion clearly delineating the silhouette of the the triumphant mech as he stomped towards them.

Jacob shook his head as he ran up to the scene. "Holy shit." He chuckled.

_"INFERIOR SPECS"_

The mech cocked his head, looking at Miranda, who shrugged, grinning despite herself. He straightened, raising his arms expansively towards the heavens.

_"I AM COMMANDER SHEPARD"_

_"YOU SHOULD BE IN AWE"_

_

* * *

_

"Awe, Shepard?" Tali asks as she walks towards me, followed by another quarian. Her voice is neutral and her facial expression of course is hidden, but from the set of her shoulders to the lightness of her gait, every bit of her body language betrays amusement.

What insolence. My torso bends backwards slightly as I stab my arms towards the sky for greater emphasis.

_"AWE"_

I hold the pose._  
_

"Awe." She parrots somewhat distractedly, as she fiddles with a pocket on her suit. She clearly is not feeling the sheer martial prowess that is Shepard reborn. I slump with a hiss, feeling just a bit petulant.

_"AWE"_

She laughs, the sound familiar and comforting. Among the Normandy's crew, Tali was the only one who generally appreciated my sense of humor.

Kaidan usually would just look at me and say, "That's pretty funny Commander." Ashley had laughed awkwardly the first few times before she took me aside and bluntly told me, "Honestly Commander, I don't find you particularly funny. It'll be easier on both of us if you just stop trying. Please." God, that woman was always far more honest than she needed to be.

Liara would just stare for a couple seconds before her eyes would widen, worrying that she had missed some social cue. Joker found this hilarious; though after the first few dozen times he exploited this, she overcame her aversion to incivility and proceeded to completely ignore anything that came out of his mouth. Garrus at least would chuckle occasionally, at least during the times when he wasn't busy being hilariously awkward himself. As for Wrex...yep, Tali was pretty much the only one.

I guess because it's something I had grown accustomed to hearing, her laugh is...reassuring. For a brief moment, I feel almost lighter, as if my present worries have disappeared and I'm back in a simpler time when the only thing I had to worry about was a mysterious genocidal alien dreadnought of incalculable age and power.

She pulls out what she's been looking for, and my optics focus on the package.

Ah. Medigel.

The sight is sobering, reminding me of why I'm here.

_"NEED HELP"_

I cock my head to the side.

"Thanks Shepard, but..." She glances involuntarily at the ends of my arms before she pulls her gaze back up to my optics.

I look at my hands. Yeah. I guess they aren't really hands actually, as that implies fingers rather than immovable weapon barrels. Not the best for medical applications. Really, not a problem, as I was always too damn good to get shot.

"Why don't you go find Veetor?" She says more softly. "I'll handle things here."

I nod. Miranda and Jacob are off to the side inspecting a broken YMIR mech, conversing in quiet yet cool tones.

_"VEETOR"_

They look up. Jacob stands up, dusting off his hands. "Right Commander, just checking something out. Been wanting to get a closer look at Hahne Kedar's new armor plating for a while now."

My squad and I head to the module in the right side of the loading bay, the only one with its doors closed. Despite all the trouble it took to reach it, the door is unlocked, and slides open when Miranda nears it. The two of them enter easily, but I have to be content with ducking my head inside.

A quarian sits in front of a bank of screens typing frantically, head jerking from one screen to the next. "Monsters coming back. Mechs will protect. Safe from swarms. Have to hide. No monsters. No swarms. No-no-no-no-no."

Oookay.

"Veetor?" Miranda asks him, one eyebrow raised.

The quarian continues typing. "No Veetor. Not here. Swarms can't find. Monsters coming. Have to hide."

"I don't think he can hear you Miranda." Jacob says quietly..

I've handled traumatized people plenty of times, and from experience I know exactly what to do in these kinds of situations. Unlike what happens in the holovids, you just can't slap a person back to sanity, tempting though it may seem. You have to treat them carefully, because the wrong stimuli can easily send them in the wrong direction.

I nod slightly at Miranda to indicate that she should continue speaking.

*blam*

A bullet pierces the left screen, sending sparks flying.

God, Miranda. Do you try to make all your problems go away by shooting them?

Veetor cowers away from the sparks, scrunching up in his chair. "Now he can hear us." Miranda says with a satisfied smirk.

_"MIRANDA"_

"Yes Commander?" She asks, holstering her weapon.

_"WHAT THE HELL"_

She blinks in surprise before she frowns at the criticism. "It worked didn't it?" She pauses, and adds deliberately, "Perhaps you'd like to handle questioning him yourself, Commander?"

Oh that's real nice. I bet she visits hospitals in her free time just so she can mock the handicapped.

_"JACOB"_

I look expectantly at him. "Er, Commander, maybe it would be best to leave this to Miranda." Jacob says, nervously looking at Miranda's rapidly darkening face.

I continue staring at him, applying the subtle pressure that only my large glowing optics can provide. He glances between me and Miranda, before sighing in defeat. Fortunately for him, Veetor, whose gaze has been darting between the two humans, speaks first. "You're human. Where did you hide? How come they didn't find you?"

"Who didn't find us?" Jacob asks.

"The...the monsters. The swarms. They took everyone."

"Oh that's helpful." Miranda says irritatedly. Veetor jerks at the sound of her voice, backing into the consoles.

"The monsters? Veetor, what happened?" Jacob says, trying to draw Veetor's attention back towards himself.

"You don't know. You didn't see." He turns towards the remaining screens, pressing a few buttons. "But I see...everything."

The screen flickers on, revealing bugs. A whole lot of bugs. Big bugs on two feet, small flying bugs, and what look to be bug pods with the missing colonists in them. "What the hell are those?" Jacob murmurs, with an noticeable undertone of disgust in his voice.

"My God, I think it's a Collector." Miranda says, more intrigued than surprised by the sight.

Collectors huh? Didn't know they actually existed.

"What are they doing so far from Omega?"

Miranda shrugs. "If they're involved with the Reapers somehow, it'd make sense that they'd start focusing on humans and their colonies."

Jacob shifts his weight onto the heels of his feet, crossing his arms. "So why didn't anyone activate the colony's security mechs when they were being taken?" He says pensively, asking the same question on my mind. "Did the Collectors manage to hack into their systems?"

Surprisingly, Veetor is coherent enough to react and answer the question. "The seeker swarms. No one can hide. The seekers find you. Freeze you. Then the monsters take you away."

"And not a single trace of them is left." Jacob says, shaking his head. "Damn, these guys run a tight operation."

Veetor appears not to have heard them. "They all left. Monsters and people. The ship flew away. But they'll be back for me. No one escapes!" He whimpers, clutching his head in his hands.

"That's all we'll be able to get out of him here." Miranda says unsympathetically.

Still shifting uneasily and looking at the ground, Veetor continues. "I studied them. The monsters. The swarms. I recorded them with my omni-tool. Lots of readings. Electro-magnetic. Dark energy."

Miranda's eyebrow rises at this information. "We need to get this data to the Illusive Man. Jacob, grab the quarian." Miranda orders, reaching towards her ear to call the shuttle.

"What? Veetor is injured! He needs treatment, not an interrogation!" Tali says angrily, sliding sideways around my bulk to enter the room.

"We won't hurt him. We just need to see if he knows anything else. He'll be returned unharmed." Jacob says, apparently trying to make peace.

I shake my head. He's kidding right? He can't be that naïve.

She looks at him, crossing her arms. "Really." She says, her voice heavy with skepticism.

"Your people tried to betray us once already. If we give him to you, we'll never get the info we need." Miranda says coldly.

"Prazza is an idiot, and there will be repercussions when we return to the Migrant Fleet." She says, raising her chin and shaking her head. She turns to me. "You're welcome to take Veetor's omni-tool data, but please. Let me take him."

"Commander, this is important! We can't take the risk that..." She protests urgently before her objections trail off. She sighs. "I'm not going to win this one either, am I Commander." She states rather than asks, rubbing her forehead.

I shake my head. She continues tiredly. "Could you at least consider that it may be prudent to question Veetor in an environment and time of our own choosing. He may have something important hidden within his mind."

Yes, it would be prudent. There is a chance that Cerberus would be able to wring out a bit more information than the quarians would give. Any information would be important in fighting such a mysterious enemy. From a certain pragmatic standpoint, taking Veetor makes sense.

_"CONSIDERED"_

Miranda's eyes widen in surprise, but quickly narrow. "But you don't agree."

I shake my head slowly. As necessary as she feels that interrogating Veetor may be...there are more important things.

"Understood Commander." She says crisply, cool and controlled once more. "Jacob, take his omnitool." She taps the com at her ear. "We're ready for pickup." She says, moving towards the door.

I move to the side slightly to let them pass by.

"Thanks, Shepard."

_"TALI"_

_"COME WITH ME"_

She answers firmly. "Shepard...I can't. I've got responsibilities now. I've got a mission of my own. I can't walk away from that. Not even for..." She pauses, gaze dropping , before the next few words come out in a rush. "Shepard, I don't even know whether you're you or not. My people were able to use personality imprints to make VI so accurate that a child was not able to realize that his parents had died. What if Cerberus has decided to do the same thing? I can't trust Cerberus enough to tell the truth about this."

I guess can't blame her.

She continues softly, shaking her head "I want to believe you're alive, I really do, but I can't know. Maybe after my mission, I'll have time to really check, but..." She raises her head, looking me in the eye.

To be honest, part of me wants to go with her rather than stay and work with Cerberus. There wasn't really any proof here that the Reapers were involved. Miranda's suggestion that the Collector's current focus on human colonies demonstrates a connection to the reapers is, quite frankly, tenuous at best. Surely the Alliance will come up with a solution eventually when they accept that their colonies are going missing. Wouldn't it be better to help someone I can trust to do good, than to help people I cannot? But even as I ask myself this, I know better.

The screens in front of me flicker, the images joining together to show an empty colony, devoid of the people who once lived there. Something must be done to stop this.

I nod at Tali.

_"DUTY FIRST"_

She bobs her head in return, taking Veetor's arm and leading him outside. As they pass me, I suddenly realize.

I want her to come with me.

I really want her to come with me.

I need someone who knew me before...I need someone to tell me, yes, despite everything that's happened, despite everything that's changed, I am still Commander Shepard. That even though I'm missing most of what composes one, I am every bit the man I used to be. Someone I can really trust, to tell me this honestly, to believe it themselves. Ashley, Garrus, Wrex, Liara, or Tali...Hell, I'd even settle for Joker or Chakwas.

Damn it, when did I become so needy? Her familiar laugh, her dry sense of humor, more than her technical skill and shotgun, I want these things to remind me that not everything's changed, that some things in this galaxy just can't.

_"TALI"_

"Shepard?" She asks, turning halfway.

_"I"_

What did I want to say? I already know that she can't join me, that duty takes priority over poor Commander Shepard's fragile self identity.

The loading bay is silent for a few seconds. She lets go of Veetor's arm, turning entirely towards me.

"After my mission is over Shepard, let's go take down another Reaper." She promises firmly, without any trace of the hesitation that marked her earlier words.

I nod.

She turns and pulls Veetor along again, disappearing as she rounds the corner of a module.

It's not everything I wanted, but...

I suppose it will have to be enough.

* * *

AN: By the way, in case any of you were wondering, I rather like Miranda as a character. Don't take any of Shepard's opinions as gospel truth or as my personal feelings; I personally doubt Miranda would even have enough free time to visit a hospital.

Dieuwtjin: Good point. I plan to spread out his issues; not only would it keep angst from clumping, but I figure it would make sense for him to only fully realize these issues when he tries to/sees others do these actions.

PD: A Ymir mech's ground speed is not particularly high, that's true. (I'll go back and see if I can alter the language to make it clearer that the distance between the loading bay doors and the enemy mech is not supposed to be not particularly long) His agility will be discussed later; but I've always found that they were able to turn their guns on me pretty damn quick.

As for all those wondering about why a YMIR mech rather than a LOKI or a geth...Where would the brain go? I guess it might fit in one of the larger geth platforms...but then what would the difference be? (For the record, YMIR mechs look a lot cooler than the geth. Fact, not opinion.)

EDIT: Further expounding on the brain bit; a brain needs a lot to live, fuel, waste disposal, oxygen; homeostasis is just not that easy. Some things can be miniaturized somewhat easily, but it's my belief that even in the future, it will still require a non trivial size of external machinery to keep the brain alive without constant monitoring and maintenance, let alone allow it to be hooked up properly.


	4. Chapter 3: Disapproval

"Shepard." The man watched as the mech's hologram flickered into view. He tapped the side of his cigarette lightly to shake off ash before taking a long draw, waiting until the image finished fully rendering.

"Do you think this is some sort of game?" He asked abruptly. The mech cocked its head questioningly in response. "Because I am finding it difficult to interpret your refusal to listen to Miranda's advice any other way."

_"CORRECT DECISIONS"_

The mech leaned forward slightly.

_"MY DECISIONS"_

The man sat up in his chair, partially mirroring Shepard's posture. "I let you have command of this mission because I believed you knew what the right decisions would be. Because I believed you understood the gravity of the situation." He replied with a faint touch of heat. The deliberate emphasis on his first three words was not lost upon the mech.

It remained silent and unresponsive, its red optics bright in the darkened room.

The man leaned back in his chair and calmly continued speaking to the mech. "The abductions on Freedom's Progress marked the disappearance of the seven hundred thousandth human colonist. From their sudden focus on humanity, we know that the perpetrators are connected to the Reapers. Yet, besides their obvious technological superiority, we still know nearly nothing about the Collectors themselves, not the nature of this connection, not the reason for so many abductions." He paused, staring at the mech. "And yet you deliberately refused a chance to learn more."

_"QUARIANS SHARED DATA"_

The mech said without moving. Stating, rather than questioning.

"I've read the transcripts of the quarians' debriefing. They are...singularly uninformative." The man said, waving his argument aside. "But you and I both know that they are unwilling to take the measures that could retrieve the information that we need."

The mech straightened itself, motors whirring behind its plates, further increasing the difference in height from which it looked down at the man.

_"MEASURES"_

It repeated.

The man remained unperturbed. "I assure you, once our business had been concluded, Veetor would have been returned alive to the fleet. But our intelligence network is vaunted for a reason. Veetor may have had information that could be crucial to the fight against the Collectors."

_"UNLIKELY"_

"Oh?" He asked amusedly. "Unlikely was it?" He leaned forward, the strange shapes in his eyes reflecting the change in light from his movement. His voice hardened. "Because if there was even a point one percent chance otherwise, you put the comfort of a single insane quarian above seven hundred human lives."

The mech was silent for a few moments.

_"MY DECISION"_

It said finally. The man slowly gave a slight smile, and took another draw, extending the silence between the two.

His next few words were spoken in a conciliatory tone. "For now, let's put this matter aside, and focus on what you should be doing next. I've compiled a list of soldiers, scientists and mercenaries. You'll get dossiers on the best of them. While I continue to track the Collectors, you will ready your team."

_"MY TEAM"_

The man paused slightly, considering whether the mech was being argumentative or inquiring, before deciding on the latter. "It's been two years Shepard. Most of them have moved on. Or their allegiances have changed."

The mech shook its head.

He nodded. "I imagined that answer wouldn't satisfy you. Very well. Ashley is still with the Alliance; her current assignment is remarkably well-classified. Wrex is attempting to unite the Krogan clans; a task which demands he remain on Tuchanka. Garrus disappeared a few months after you were declared dead." He paused, frowning slightly. "Even we haven't been able to locate him. Liara is currently on Illium, but my sources tell me that she's working for the Shadow Broker." He finished.

Shepard nodded curtly, turning to leave.

"It's not all bad news Shepard." The man said, causing Shepard to slowly swivel its torso to look at him in response. He continued. "For one thing, I've managed to find a pilot I think you might like. I hear he's one of the best. Someone you can trust."

"Hey Commander. Nice duds." A man in a Cerberus uniform appeared behind Shepard, eliciting a more rapid turn from the mech.

_"JOKER"_

"Yep. It's good to see you Commander. C'mon, I've got something cool to show you." He turned and began to limp away. The mech stepped off the pad, following slowly to match Joker's pace.

_"CERBERUS"_

It asked, cocking its head to the side. Joker nodded slowly. "Once you were gone Commander, it all fell apart." Joker explained as the two headed down the corridor.

* * *

"Was that wise? Antagonizing him like that?" Miranda's hologram appeared from another pad in the darkened room.

"His idealism may become a problem in the future." The man answered. "If we can influence him into a more pragmatic mindset, he will be substantially more useful to humanity." He paused to take a draw from his cigarette, before waving it slightly towards Miranda. "I'll be relying on you in this matter."

Miranda nodded slowly. "I can't guarantee success."

"Lacking confidence Miranda?" He asked with his eyebrow raised.

"Shepard is...difficult. I believe it would be easier to manipulate him than to convince him to change." She replied slowly.

"Easier yes. But he would be correspondingly less useful." The man leaned forward, uncrossing his legs. "I understand recent events might make you more cautious, but I need my best agent at her peak performance. You've always had excellent intuition regarding people, and I need you to know that you can still count on it."

She nodded firmly. "Understood. But there is a very real risk that pushing him too hard will turn him further against Cerberus."

The man sat back in his chair. "Shepard is no longer...as irreplaceable an asset as he once was Miranda. This allows for certain reasonable risks to be taken."

Her eyebrow rose at his words. "Understood." She replied, inquiring no further.

* * *

"The Alliance took away the only thing that mattered to me. Hell yeah I joined Cerberus." Joker finished angrily.

He stopped suddenly, forcing the mech to come to a halt behind him. Shepard tilted its head in inquiry. Joker raised his hand to his neck, rubbing the back of it slowly. "Um Commander...I just wanted to say...I'm sorry about disobeying orders and getting you spaced and...you know."

The mech regarded him for a few seconds,

_"APOLOGY ACCEPTED"_

Joker nodded choppily. "Thanks. It's been bothering me for the last two years." He confessed. He blinked. "Uh, what's with the arms?"

Behind him, the mech had spread its arms wide.

_"HUG"_

"Commander, I totally feel you, but I'm not sure thats a good idea. Squishy organs and brittle leg bones remember?" He said, bringing his arms up in a warding gesture.

The commander cocked its head slightly, the top of its head mount reflecting the cold glare of the corridor's fluorescent lights

"They could go crunch on impact?" Joker continued nervously, backing away slowly.

Shepard began to slowly advance.

"...Oh shit!" Joker hobbled away as fast as he could. "You're still pissed!"

Although Joker's top speed was only a few miles per hour, rather than catching up, the mech contented itself with moving only slightly faster, edging inch by inch ever closer. They moved through the corridor, in a peculiarly slow chase.

"Damn it Commander! I'm not cut out for running!" Joker said over his shoulder, out of breath, still not daring to slow down.

_"HUG"_

The mech repeated, extending his arms further until the tips of its weapons scratched the walls of the corridor.

"Shit!" They reached a T intersection, the opposing wall lined with a black window. Joker collapsed against the wall out of breath, the mech only a few feet behind.

_"HU-"_

The mech suddenly stopped.

Behind Joker, a light had flickered on, glinting off a metal plate, revealing a well polished white surface. Then another light opened. A familiar shape formed, a long graceful line of white plates. A streamlined frigate hull was slowly revealed, its lower sections a glossy black to contrast the white surfaces on top. The curves of the ship arched back into two wings with four long engines, visible exhausts on their forward and aft sides. Two small fins mounted on the top were among the last parts to be revealed.

The mech's optics swept across the window, taking in the sight of the ship.

"Beautiful isn't she?" Joker asked, standing up gingerly and turning to lean towards the window.

_"THE NORMANDY"_

"It's good to be home, huh, Commander?"

The mech's optics whirred, focusing in closer on the ship. It stared at the Cerberus logo, at the engines and fins, before zooming out to again view the entire shape, much larger than the image it remembered.

_"NOT THE SAME"_

It said, head lowering. Joker nodded. "No. It isn't." He said softly. "But we have to take what we can get." Shepard's head raised, turning to Joker.

_"APPARENTLY SO"_

Joker nodded, before suddenly realizing what the mech meant. He spoke, indignant. "And what is that supposed to me-"

_"HUG"_

"Not that I would ever begrudge you a few jokes at my expense." He amended hastily. The mech looked up, staring once more at the ship.

"You'll see Commander. It won't be so bad."

The mech nodded.

"C'mon, the anticipation's killing me." Joker said grinning, heading towards the entrance.

Shepard followed, still looking at the ship through the window.

* * *

"Welcome aboard the new Normandy, Commander." Jacob greeted the mech as it entered the open cargo bay.

Miranda walked up to the three of them, addressing Shepard. "I'm sure you're eager to tour the ship, but I'm afraid that you'll have to remain in the bay for the time being. Unless we get some extensive reworking of parts of the hull done, it would be difficult for you to maneuver through the rest of the ship."

Shepard nodded.

"We'll try to make things as convenient as possible for you. Some of our engineers have already begun setting up equipment for power cell recharging." She said motioning to a tangle of metal and wires off to the left. "They'll also be bringing down a terminal for your assistant to use."

Joker interrupted them. "Sorry, but Commander, I'm gonna head up. Gotta prep the ship to go and everything." He began hobbling towards the elevator.

"Right, on that note, I should let you know about our next destination." Miranda said, drawing Shepard's attention back to her. "We'll be heading to Omega to pick up some members of our team, a mercenary named Zaeed and a salarian scientist named Mordin Solus. The Illusive Man should have sent you the dossiers on his list; I'm sure you'll find that these two would be an excellent place to start."

Shepard nodded, more slowly this time.

Miranda noted his hesitation. "Should you disagree of course, feel free to let me know."

Behind her, the elevator doors opened, revealing a young looking red head. "Commander Shepard!" She called out, hurrying over towards them.

"Kelly Chambers will be your personal assistant. She will helping you with operating the terminal, as well as with any other tasks that may require fine manual manipulation." Miranda explained.

"Commander Shepard. It is an honor to meet you." Kelly said as she reached them, her face set in an open and honest expression.

"If you could explain your duties to him?" Miranda asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Sure!" Kelly replied cheerfully.

"Then if you'll excuse me Commander, there's a lot to be done before we leave." She turned and began walking towards the elevator. "Jacob, a word?"

"Alright." He answered, following her.

Kelly turned back to Shepard. "Basically, I'm your administrative assistant. I'll help you manage your terminal, bringing up whatever files or messages you need to read. If you need to look up something on the extranet, or type a message out, I can help with that as well." She frowned slightly at the scattered parts on the floor. "Of course, we'll need to actually have a terminal here...I'll see if I can get Rupert to put that at the top of his list." She continued. "If you want to talk to someone, just let me know, and I'll see if I can bring them down."

"Alternatively, you could ask me, as it would be far simpler for me to let the relevant crew member know." An artificial sounding female voice interrupted from speakers set high in the bay.

The mech tilted its head inquisitively.

"Oh, that's right, you probably haven't met EDI yet have you?"

"I am the Normandy's artificial intelligence. My official name is Enhanced Defense Intelligence. EDI for short."

_"AI"_

Weapons raised slightly as the mech visibly tensed, internal motors shifting into ready positions.

"I have no control over the ship. Due to the potential dangers of a rogue AI, Cerberus has severely restricted my abilities. During combat, I operate the electronic warfare and cyberwarfare suites. Beyond that, I cannot interface with the ship's systems. I observe and offer analysis and advice. Nothing more." The voice fell silent.

The mech was motionless for a few moments, before it slowly relaxed, gears shifting to a lower setting.

"Don't worry too much Commander, she hasn't tried to kill us yet." Kelly said with a grin. "I'll be spending most of my time down here, but if you ever need something when I'm not around, EDI should be able to help."

The elevator doors opened yet again, this time delivering a familiar face to Shepard.

_"DOCTOR CHAKWAS"_

The mech moved eagerly to greet her.

"Why Commander, look at you! It's only been two years yet you've grown so much!" Chakwas said, her eyes twinkling.

Shepard posed, its head turning to the side as it raised its autocannon and lowered its rocket launcher in parody of a bodybuilder's flexing arms.

_"BEEN DRINKING MILK"_

"And look how strong it's made your bones." She said, rapping her knuckles on his lowered arm, resulting in a hollow metallic sound.

_"GOOD TO SEE YOU"_

Its head tilted slightly to the right.

_"HUG"_

She frowned. "Don't think I didn't hear about what you did to Joker. One of the technicians saw you chasing him down that corridor. You should know how easy it is for his bones to fracture." She said disapprovingly.

The mech's head hung down as it slumped in response. Motors in its neck made a small high pitched whine.

She snorted. "You look ridiculous when you do that. I'll have you know that the puppy dog look has never worked for you before, and it certainly isn't going to work now." She shook her head. "More seriously, we should probably talk about some of the medical aspects of your new body."

Shepard straightened and nodded. Chakwas continued. "I've been looking over the notes of the scientists who were in charge of the project. Most of it is beyond my area of expertise, requiring a great deal more technical and engineering knowledge than I currently have. I'm working through one of the doctor's research notes, but it's fairly slow going."

The mech nodded slowly.

"On the bright side, they were fairly clear on how to perform routine maintenance. I should be able to follow their instructions, and refill the supply of some of the more rapidly consumed materials. It is really is amazing what they were able to do. Because you no longer have blood cells, the miniature fabrication module in your body continually produces and recycles these small metal microparticles, which somehow absorb oxygen in the layered artificial lungs and are induced into releasing oxygen in your brain. I understand that the binding energy requirement of the reaction is in some way fulfilled by electromagnetic radiation, but it is quite frankly..." She shook her head and sighed. "At least I'm fairly familiar with the synthetic kidney filtration system, as well as the circulation pumps, but even they're slightly modified."

The mech stared blankly at her.

"In short Commander, I'll be able to keep you alive. But if you receive internal damage in the torso area, and some of the more intricate machinery is damaged, there's a good chance I wouldn't be able to fix you. I can do the medical part of fixing neural connections to your extremities should that become necessary, and there's probably someone on the ship who could fix the less complicated mechanical parts in your limbs, but you need to be careful. We just may not have the expertise to bring you back up to speed if you get severely damaged."

Shepard nodded solemnly.

_"UNDERSTOOD"_

_"ALWAYS BEEN ONLY MORTAL"_

She sighed. "I know it's not going to happen, but try not to get hurt."

_"I'LL TRY"_

She looked at the mech, pausing for a few seconds, her mind undecided. Making a decision, she stepped in close, arms awkwardly spread across its lower torso. Shepard stiffened in surprise, its posture straightening. Its arms hovered, uncertain of where to go.

"Welcome back Commander."

* * *

AN: Boring setup is pretty much done. Finally getting to Omega, I've got some pretty cool ideas about what's happening next

I've been wanting to change the summary for a while now. One possibility:

I was dead once. But they built me a new body, better than I was before. Better. Stronger. Faster. One made from pure Badass, forged within the burning fires of Mt. WIN. I am Commander Shepard. Awesomeness made Manifest. I AM YMIR MECH

Would this have made you more/less likely to read the story?

EDIT: The above summary was uh, a bit of a joke. I am considering changing the summary though.

Incidentally, the science stuff mentioned in this chapter is theoretically possible. There's been studies where they show that neuron growth can be enhanced by mechanical tension, and electromagnetic radiation has been used for remote power supply.

Finally, one last thing, I'll probably be joining chapters 2 and 3 together, so the next update will also be labeled Chapter 4.


	5. Chapter 4: Omega

"Zaeed Massani?" Miranda asked, walking with Jacob towards a scarred man in tattered armor leaning against the bulkhead.

"Yeah. That's me. You with Cerberus?" The man responded without moving.

She nodded. "We're here to pick you up. I assume you've read the briefing materials?"

"I've done my homework." His good eye flicked between Miranda and Jacob. "And unless one of you has had some serious reconstructive surgery, I doubt either of you is Shepard."

"He's still on the ship." Miranda replied.

"Couldn't be bothered to greet me himself?" Zaeed asked, not really intending to wait for an answer. He glanced at Jacob, whose had a hostile expression on his face. "Got a problem?"

"I'm not too fond of mercenaries, that's all." Jacob said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Zaeed glared at him for a few seconds, but Jacob met his gaze steadily. "Ha!" He barked a short laugh. "You've got guts." Turning back towards Miranda, he jerked his thumb towards Jacob. "Cute kid. He yours?"

"Thank God no." She replied. She shook her head slightly before continuing. "Zaeed, are you clear on who you're working for?"

His eye narrowed slightly. "The briefing material stated that Commander Shepard would be in charge."

"Yes. He is in command of this mission." She stated. "I would just like to remind you that your contract is with Cerberus, and the credits from this job will also be coming from Cerberus."

It narrowed further. "If the job's changed, we're going to have to renegotiate terms."

"The job is the same. Defeating the Collectors." She replied calmly.

"Then I'll do what I was paid to do." He said curtly. "We boarding your ship?"

"Later. First we have to pick up a scientist who runs a clinic here on Omega."

He nodded, stepping past them into the station. Miranda frowned slightly at his retreating back. "Miranda, what was that all about?" Jacob, looking uncomfortable, asked her quietly after Zaeed had walked a few meters.

"A test."

"Of what? We're on the same side Miranda."

She turned towards him, squarely meeting his eyes. "Jacob, remember why you joined Cerberus. It's because you know that sometimes hard decisions have to be made for the good of humanity." He nodded slowly. "You joined because the Alliance couldn't do that. I need to know that in the event Shepard makes the wrong decision, we can still ensure that the right things happen."

He nodded sharply, his face still betraying his unease.

"It's not likely to happen Jacob." She tried to reassure him.

"It's just..."

"You sure you aren't his mother?" Zaeed asked, leaning around the corner. The two blinked in surprise. "What the hell is taking so damn long?"

Miranda ignored his question. "Let's get moving."

* * *

I am bored. So...damn...bored.

Miranda and Jacob left the ship a while ago to pick up the mercenary and the scientist. Of course, the only reason I'm still here is that I was only informed after the fact, and I sure as hell aren't going to go chasing after them. But there's absolutely nothing to do here in the hangar. I've already read all four dossiers and relevant codex entries. Everyone else on the ship is busy with their duties, fixing problems that cropped up in the Normandy's maiden voyage, or setting up new equipment.

Kelly's typing something up on the terminal off to my left, looking quite diligent. Which makes me wonder. Doesn't it get tiring standing all day? Apparently not for her, seeing as how she acts just as cheerful at the end of the day as in the beginning. Sort of creepy actually.

Pah, screw this. Even if there's no particular reason to do so, I'm going out.

_"OPEN THE BAY DOORS"_

Kelly looks up in surprise. "Shepard. May I ask where you are going?" EDI's artificial voice comes from the speakers high in the ceiling.

_"SHOPPING"_

"In the Omega markets? Oh, the engineers asked me if I could pick up a few things from there. Let me come with you." Says Kelly, shutting down the terminal. "Just give me a few minutes to get ready." She requests, heading towards the elevator.

"Is that a good idea?" EDI asks me. "It may be easier for one of the other crew members to handle purchases."

I shrug in response. God, I don't need my own ship nagging me. I have a feeling Miranda will handle that bit soon enough.

I wait for Kelly impatiently. I've already spent hours or so doing absolutely nothing, but somehow just another few minutes feel like an eternity. After a minute, the elevator doors slide open, revealing Kelly with a fairly large sidearm strapped to her waist. My opinion of her shifts up a notch.

"EDI, can you open the doors?" She calls out, walking over.

The cargo bay doors slide open in response, and I walk out, taking my first step into Omega.

My first impression is that this is a filthy, filthy place. Everything looks rusted, covered in dust or dirt. Of course, since this is not a terrestrial building, it's probably dried sewage or some other disgusting organic byproduct. Kelly, however, looks entirely unperturbed by her surroundings. "The market's that way." She says pointing, before starting forward to leave the dock. I let her take the lead, despite having had hours to memorize the layout. We pass through a dark corridor before entering Omega proper.

"Humans are a blight upon galactic purity! You sir, are a blight! And you, and you and You!" A batarian standing on a box shouts. He ends his tirade pointing at Kelly, shivering in anger.

She blinks in surprise. As I walk closer, he shifts his attention to me.

"Think you to silence me with your machine abominations?" He shouts angrily, "This is only further proof! Humans are the hands of the Reapers, here to commit the galaxy to ruin!"

Kelly's attention is piqued by his mention of the Reapers. I personally just think even crazy people must occasionally get it partly right. "So what about the Geth?" She asks him.

His expression twists uncertainly, both pleased that someone appears to be paying genuine attention, and disturbed that it's one of the galactic blight. But he quickly regains his confidence, speaking increasingly loudly. "Mere propaganda by the pitiable Council races to distract you from the Word! The Geth are but mechanical tools born of sin and vice!"

Huh. More than occasionally.

"Those who dip their extremities in the well of sin and vice must repent with fire, oil and gun! The purge will come. The only way is clear, my friends. Draw your weapons for the Word, or face its terrible wrath!" He shakes his fist at us angrily.

He sorta reminds me of Udina. Might explain why no one on the Council ever believed us...

"The end times are upon us! Repent and restore your souls to glory!" He raises his arms, looking upward with an entranced expression.

...They probably thought we were infected by crazy. I shake my head and move on. Kelly watches for a few more seconds, probably curious to see if any more eerily accurate words spill from the mad prophet's mouth, before she jogs briefly to catch up.

Announcements sound from speakers placed along the fairly empty corridor. Advertisements, the occasional piece of anti human propaganda, the even more rare piece of news. But one announcement catches my ear. Well, that and the one about Shepard Memorial Plaza. Personally, I can't believe the memorial is a hot wedding spot. When I went to see it, I thought it was a hideous monstrosity, an example of architecture and civil engineering gone horribly wrong. Shows what I know about style I guess. Or maybe it's so popular because of me? It's almost enough to make me blush...

Ahem. The other announcement that I found interesting. "Merc groups across Omega are closing in Omega's public enemy number one, Archangel."

Public enemy number one? On Omega? A place the official codex described with the words 'Even in the lawless Terminus systems, there exists no more wretched hive of scum and villainy?'

_"INQUIRE ABOUT ARCHANGEL"_

"That caught your attention too Commander?" Kelly grins. "How'd you like the bit about the Shepard Memorial Plaza?" She teases.

I motion towards myself.

_"HOT COMMODITY"_

She nods in agreement. "There's a reason Cerberus has spent so much bringing you back to life Commander." She pauses, before continuing with a more serious look on her face. "Cerberus does need you. We need you."

Well, I suppose I'm flattered...I wonder if that was supposed some sort of subtle manipulation? It sure felt a bit overdone.

We enter the market, a somewhat crowded open space, with stalls selling what looks to be primarily be various salvage and scrap. She heads towards a rather empty counter manned by a batarian who is sifting through several boxes, and starts scrolling through the inventory list on the mounted console.

"Excuse me." Kelly says.

The batarian grunts in reply.

"I was wondering whether you could tell me about this Archangel that's been on the news?"

He straightens, facing her with a grumpy expression on his face. Which by the way, on a batarian is actually pretty hard to distinguish. "Look, I'm not here to waste time chatting, I'm here to sell things. Now either you..."

"And in a minute or so, you won't be doing much of either." She interrupts him cheerily, a mock frown on her face.

The two of us stare at her. Was that a threat? Or is she just saying that she'll take her business elsewhere? Her expression, ostensibly showing displeasure, is somehow disturbingly unreadable.

The batarian eyes her, the same thoughts clearly running through his head. His four eyes flick briefly to the gun at her waist and then towards me, his hand twitching slightly towards the underside of the counter.

But he makes the intelligent decision quickly. "He's some sort of vigilante that's been harassing the mercenary groups here on Omega. Intercepting shipments, destroying goods. Nobody knows a lot about him, but he must be pretty damn skilled to have survived so long."

"Why'd he get a name like Archangel?" She asks, curious.

"You how people are. Some lone guy starts bothering the mercs on top, suddenly everybody thinks he's some sort of people's hero." He shakes his head. "It wouldn't mean anything to me, but the mercs are increasing the cut they take to make up for their losses."

Huh, this Archangel sounds pretty interesting. Maybe we could recruit him? A lone vigilante, fighting against impossible odds to bring a little bit of justice to a dark and sinful city...Pretty cool sounding guy right? Might not be a team player though.

"That's about all I know. Now are you going to buy something or not?" He finishes grumpily.

She nods. "Shepard, what do you think?" She asks pointing at the console.

I shuffle over to the console. The merchant blinks in surprise, before deciding not to ask.

She scrolls slowly down the list for me. There's some random junk, some armor, a couple of weapons, none of which we need. But there's also an encrypted blueprint for a sniper rifle modification, licensed from Rosenkov Materials. According to the description, it should have one install left before its internal FRM shuts it down.

I point to it, and two other items on the list. She raises an eyebrow, before asking the merchant to see the upgrade OSD. Plugging it briefly into her omnitool to verify its authenticity, she gives me a quick nod. She completes the transaction, the console giving off a small beep. "By the way, I'm looking for T6-FBA couplings..." She says to the batarian.

He frowns only slightly, his mood noticeably improved by the purchases. "Ship parts right? You could try Harrot's Emporium or the quarian's downstairs."

She thanks him politely before turning back towards me. "We better try the Emporium first; we'd have to take a roundabout route if we wanted to go downstairs." I nod. Behind her, I can see the batarian shaking his head at the crazy lady talking to her mech.

We make our way easily towards the Emporium, the other people in the markets going out of their way to give us a wide berth.

Harrot has little new to say about Archangel, although his opinion is a little more positive than the batarian's; apparently since Archangel intercepted a few mercenary shipments, the prices on some of the more illicit items in his inventory have risen. He doesn't have the couplings we need either, although he tries very hard to push a substitute.

"Feigned Enthusiasm: The T4-FBB couplings do the exact same job for half the price." Kelly declines, having received explicit instructions from the engineers to buy one exact model. "Mild Desperation: A comb for your head fringe will be added to your purchase free!" He calls after us as we leave.

...First time I've ever seen an elcor smoke. It looks weird as hell.

Still in search of the couplings, we take a roundabout route to the quarian's salvage shop. It probably would have been more convenient for Kelly to just handle that purchase by herself, but she probably wanted to humor me. Another announcement sounds on the way, this one a wanted ad for freelancers to help take down Archangel. If the mercenaries are at the point where they're spending money to hire freelancers, there might not be much time left. I say as much to Kelly.

_"NOT MUCH TIME"_

Surprisingly, she grasps my meaning after only a few moments of thought. "For Archangel?" She asks, her brow wrinkling. I nod. "You really do want to recruit him. Why is that?"

That...is an interesting question. I suppose it's my intuition? The same intuition told me to recruit a unknown krogan detained by C-Sec. That a young quarian could be useful beyond just providing proof one time. That some outlying sector, in search of possible geth threat, was not where I should be. So far it hasn't led me wrong.

_"INTUITION"_

She shrugs. "Sure. We can work with that."

The door in front slides open, revealing yet another counter setting apart an area full of scrap and broken machines. Behind it, a quarian is kneeling down, feverishly working on the knee joint of a YMIR model identical to my own.

"Excuse me?"

The quarian is unresponsive, apparently too engrossed in his work. He's working desperately; as he picks up a welder a little too close to the end, the smoke from burnt plastics wafts towards us, the outer layers of his environmental suit blackening from the heat. But he takes little notice of the damage, merely shifting his hand's position, and sparks begin to fly from where the tool contacts the plate of the mech.

Kelly begins to scroll through the console, still looking for the FBA couplings she was tasked to find. But her search is fruitless, so she tries once more to get the quarian's attention. "Excuse me?"

He still doesn't respond. She slides around the counter, a determined look on her face. Is she going to physically get his attention?

Oh, that is such a bad idea.

The welder drags a jagged line through the knee joint, severing crucial hoses and electrical connections, leaving a tear ringed with molten metal.

"Oh, Keelah." He breathes, staring at the mess.

"Oops." Kelly says, her arm frozen in the air, having just tapped his shoulder.

"Keelah." He repeats, unmoving, stunned.

"Um...Sorry?" She asks apologetically, drawing her arm back.

He rocks back, sitting flat on the floor. "Keelah." His said one last time, his voice resigned. "They're going to kill me." He reaches towards the tangle, attempting to lightly separate out one of the wires, heedless of the heat from the glowing plates. A tangle of wires comes with it, their plastic casing melted and twisted together.

"Look, I'm really sorry. How I can help?" She says, bending down slightly.

"Help?" He asks with a strangled tone before laughing bitterly. "Unless you have a fully functional YMIR mech I can deliver to Eclipse by five..." He shrugs helplessly, yanking on the mess to remove it, reaching for a set of clippers. "Maybe I can at least get it partially working..." He mutters to himself.

Oho...this could be interesting.

She frowns, watching him for a few seconds as he picks apart the ruined area, before she turns to leave.

As soon as she faces me, I gesture at the quarian. She raises her eyebrows, tilting her head in question. I repeat the gesture. Her left eyebrow shoots even farther up, her hand pointing towards me and then towards him. I nod.

Quietly, "You're kidding right?" I stare at her. "Miranda would kill me." She hisses quietly.

Stare.

"By yourself?"

I remain unmoving. She sighs, and turns back to the quarian. "How soon will you get that model fixed up?"

He carefully puts the clippers down and begins to turn around. "It'll take me at least seven hours." He says in a carefully controlled tone. "Now if you wouldn't mind, could...Oh." He stares at me. "Oh."

She nods.

"Would you..." He asks in a cautiously optimistic tone, gesturing towards me.

"Do you have T6-FBA couplings?" She asks.

He nods desperately, turning and rummaging through the scrap pile. "Just got it recently; haven't had a chance yet to put it on the list..."

"Alright. Drop them off at berth A20. I'll be back in seven hours." She gives him a stern glare. "That mech had better be fixed by then."

"It will be, I promise." He says, bobbing his head.

"Now, if you could hand me the command drive?" She asks, holding out her hand.

"Oh, don't worry, I've worked with mechs before. I can handle that."

Her hand doesn't move. "I know."

"...Ah." He pulls over a stool to gain access to the top of the mech, pulling out a screwdriver from one of his pockets. After the removal of several screws and plates, he pulls out a moderately sized drive from the mech's upper back.

Kelly walks behind me, indicating I should let her access the same panel. I compact easily, having already attempted the same maneuver several times earlier in the ship.

Like I said, I was bored.

She opens and unscrews the panel, reproducing the sounds the quarian made earlier. I'm not quite sure what replacing the drive would do to me; and I'm not sure anyone living knows yet either. But she only pretends to replace it. "Alright then."

He nods, and hurries back to fixing the broken mech. She mouths "Be careful!" at me, and leaves back to the ship.

Let's hope this works.

* * *

"Use malanarin. Plenty on hand. Almost as good. Causes cramping in batarians. Supplement with butermerol." An aged salarian ordered while he inspected a patient lying on the operating table.

"Malanarin and butermerol. Got it." The woman said, rushing off to do his bidding.

"Professor Mordin Solus." The trio approached him.

He turned, scanning them with his omnitool. "Hmm. Don't recognize you from area. Too well-armed to be refugees. No mercenary uniform. Quarantine still in effect." He said, beginning to pace. "Here for something else. Vorcha? Crew to..."

"Professor." Miranda interrupted. "We're here to recruit you for our mission."

"Mission? What mission? No. Too busy. Clinic understaffed. Plague sending too fast. Who sent you?"

"Cerberus." Miranda replied matter of factly.

He frowned at her answer. "Thought they only worked with humans. Why request salarian aid?"

She nodded, acknowledging the question. "We're trying to stop the collectors."

"Collectors? Advanced technology. Far beyond human capability." He smirked. "Reason for my help."

"Humble aren't you?" Zaeed said from where he was half sitting on the operating table.

"Humility. Arrogance. Only ignorance of own worth. Capacity." Mordin shrugged, his eyes glinting. "I know mine."

He turned back to Miranda. "Plague hitting slums is engineered. Collectors one of few groups with technology to design it. Our goals may be similar." He shook his head. "But must stop plague first. Already have cure. Need to distribute it at environmental control center. Vorcha guarding it. Need to kill them."

Miranda frowned. "We don't really have time be to handling that Mordin. The Collectors need to be dealt with quickly."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. You too understand my worth. This is my price." He replied firmly.

"C'mon Miranda, it didn't take us that long to cut through the vorcha in the way here. How bad could it be?" Jacob contributed. A loud hiss and rattle from the ducts above them followed his words, accompanied by warning lights turning on throughout the clinic. He sighed. "And I...just said something I shouldn't have. Again."

"Vorcha have shut down environmental systems. Trying to kill everyone. Need to get power on before district suffocates. Here, take plague cure. One more thing. Daniel. One of my assistants. Went into vorcha territory. Looking for victims. Hasn't come back." Mordin fired off rapidly.

"Also part of your price?" Miranda asked rhetorically. She shook her head. "If we find him alive, we'll send him back."

"Thank you. Told him not to go. But he's smart. Bright future. I hope."

Miranda raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Zaeed was less restrained, his rough laugh loud. "Probably not gonna be a long one."

"Let's get this done." She ordered.

* * *

"You're late." A salarian dressed in a Eclipse commander's uniform said, an irritated expression on his face.

The two Eclipse engineers accompanied by the YMIR mech came to a halt. The left one, a salarian, spoke up. "Sorry Jaroth, we were having technical difficulties with..."

Jaroth's eyes narrowed as he interrupted him. "You were having technical difficulties? That's odd. Seeing as how someone saw the two of you drinking in Afterlife for the last three hours."

"We were waiting for part of its programming to compile. That's why we couldn't come earlier." The man on the right said smoothly after only a short pause.

"And since when have you done any programming?" Jaroth asked. "Or any repair work on the YMIR mechs at all?"

The salarian engineer looked nervously at the other engineer, who spoke up once more. "I'm not quite sure what you..."

Jaroth interrupted him, smiling sadistically. "Since the two of you seem to be so efficient at delegating, maybe we should increase your duties. We always do need more engineers leading with the mechs from the front." The two paled. "In the meantime, I understand the Loki mechs need a bit more routine maintenance." He looked threateningly at them. "I assume that is within your capabilities?" The engineers nodded rapidly. "Then let's get this setup in the mech room."

The three approached an intersection with a corridor filled with barricades.

"I see your precious mech finally arrived." A woman in a Blue Suns uniform called out from the other side.

"Jentha." The salarian greeted sourly as he approached her cautiously, taking care to remain in cover.

"Heh. Doesn't look like we'll even need it. Tarak knows what he's doing." She said proudly.

"Oh?" He smiled mockingly. "How's his gunship doing?"

"It did its job." She retorted, irritated by the reminder. "Our infiltration's team's almost done. We've got the bastard this time."

"As long as he's dead." He said, shrugging. "What the hell are you two waiting for?" He called over his shoulder.

The engineers were still at the other side of the intersection, nervous about Archangel's sniping capability. As they hurriedly crossed with the YMIR mech following, a shot rang out, slamming against the mech's upper shields. It turned, focusing its optics on the figure in the distance, before shifting to the infiltration group in the shadow of the building, unseen by the sniper. Another sniper shot hit, the shield flickering from the impact near its head.

_"I AM THE VANGUARD OF YOUR DESTRUCTION"_

The sniper's next shot went wild.

"You even programmed the mech to trash talk? Heh, you Eclipse must not get much work at all." Jentha, said crossing her arms.

Jaroth frowned, ignoring her, turning to the engineers, only to be greeted with an armored autocannon smashing into his side, tossing him against the barricade.

The rapid fire rounds hammered his shields as he tried to get up, his above average equipment showing its worth in lasting a few more seconds from the close range barrage. The shield flared before failing, and his torso was torn to shreds in the hail of fire.

_"RUDIMENTARY CREATURES OF BLOOD AND FLESH"_

"Don't you guys have a shut down command?" Jentha roared, having dived behind cover as soon as Jaroth was attacked.

The salarian engineer frantically operated his omnitool, panicking. "I've already sent it! It's not-"

_"YOU TOUCH MY MIND"_

The human engineer, a little more far sighted than his companion, started running. The mech's torso whirled to face them.

_"__FUMBLING IN IGNORANCE"_

The omnitool flickered as the mech's weapon punched holes through its owner's unarmored body. But the human engineer wasn't any more lucky, neglecting to remember the reason why there were barricades in the first place. The sniper shot pierced his head, exiting easily in a spray of blood.

_"__INCAPABLE OF UNDERSTANDING"_

Jentha popped up, her M-76 spewing rounds at the mech's form. It rapidly swiveled to face her, its autocannon forcing her to duck back behind the crate to avoid the continuing fire.

"Goddamn mechs." She said, popping the heat sink out her weapon" This is why we never used-" Her last words were cut off as the cover she was hiding against slammed into her, crushing her against the corridor wall with a sickening crunch.

_"__THIS EXCHANGE IS OVER"_

Steam rose from its shoulders, its heat dissipation panels hissing as liquid coolant flowed through its weapons.

"What the hell was that?" A man leading a group of Eclipse mercenaries ran up around the corner behind the mech. They paused for a split second at the bloody sight before diving back behind cover.

But rather than try and dislodge them, the mech turned, ramming through the barricades towards Archangel. Having been made only with the sniper in mind, they parted without much resistance before the mech's progress.

_"EDI"_

_"REQUEST ASSISTANCE"_

_"AT THEIR CONVENIENCE"_

* * *

"Please, I'm telling you the truth! I work for Mordin at the clinic. I came here to help you!"

"We know you're spreading the plague virus. We saw the vials in the bag." The batarian spat, leaning in closer.

"No! Those vials contain the cure. Please...you have to believe me!"

The batarian dug the barrel into Daniel's forehead. "Maybe we should cut off your fingers. That would loosen your tongue..."

The door slid open. "That would be an inadvisable course of action." Miranda said coolly, stepping in with her machine pistol raised. Behind her, Jacob and Zaeed filed in, carefully aiming at the batarian's companions.

"Don't move! One more step and we kill your friend!"

She raised an eyebrow. "While we were asked to retrieve him, it is most certainly not a priority." The man looked fearful at her last words. "You can't seriously believe he's using the vials to spread the plague now?" She said, emphasizing the last word, gesturing slightly with her head towards the fires still burning in the streets.

The batarian frowned uncertainly, thinking. "If we let him go, what'd stop you from shooting us?"

"The same thing that's stopping me now. It would be a minor inconvenience. Now either you let him go and we probably won't shoot you, or you kill him now and die a little more slowly." She finished, looking almost bored.

The batarian flinched slightly, shifting his grip on the pistol and looking at his companions for advice. Miranda took advantage of his distraction.

Three high speed bullets pierced his skull, the machine pistol's burst ending his life almost instantaneously. Even as the other two batarians tried to react, Jacob and Zaeed cut them down in a hail of automatic fire, their trained reflexes far outstripping their relatively slow opponents.

The man they had just rescued stared in horror at the body next to where he had fallen. "You...You just killed him? He was going to lower his weapon!" Daniel protested as he got up from the ground.

"It is possible the situation could have been resolved peaceably." Miranda responded calmly, walking towards the medikit behind him. "This solution, however, was a certainty."

"I would have risked it!" He said, glaring at her.

"How very noble of you. You do realize they were about to torture you to death?" She said dryly without looking at him, as she pocketed the medigel.

He shook his head in denial. "This...this is just wrong. Wait until Mordin hears about this!" He replied angrily, before storming out of the room.

Miranda raised an eyebrow. "I find it difficult to imagine how he survived to adulthood on Omega."

Zaeed shrugged. "Fifty creds he only lasts another month."

Jacob frowned. "Hell no. You'd probably shoot him on the last day."

Zaeed grinned. "Why wait?" He laughed mockingly at Jacob's disgusted glare. "Would've been easy money too."

* * *

The last member of the infiltration group is eliminated, the shelf he had taken cover behind proving to be no defense against the shrapnel from the rocket impacting the wall behind it. For now at least, the battlefield is relatively quiet, with only the occasional shot meant to keep us on edge coming from the hastily rebuilt barricades.

"Hey! Did Tali send you?" Garrus hollers down from his position on the second level.

Not a bad guess actually. If I ever get saved by a quote spewing mech, it'd probably be my guess too. Well, might as well give it to him bluntly.

_"I AM COMMANDER SHEPARD"_

The building was silent for a few moments.

"Seriously?" He responds incredulously. "Don't tell me she actually went ahead and built that VI?" He says to himself, a little more quietly.

I of course, can pick it up.

_"NOT A VI"_

Would be pretty nifty having a VI of myself I could talk to though. Of course, it could never be as witty or charming as the original.

"And would you even know?" He asks reasonably, speaking in a more normal tone, having realized I can easily hear him.

I've already had ample time in the cargo bay to consider this question. I think, therefore I am. I can't be one hundred percent sure I'm Shepard, but I know I'm definitely not a VI.

_"I WOULD"_

"...You suuure?"

_"DON'T BE AN ASS"_

He does the turian equivalent of a snort. "Sounds like you're Shepard." He sighs tiredly. "Well, not like I'm in a position to be picky anyways."

I nod, before realizing he can't see me. We'd better get back to business, although I would like to find out what the hell he's doing out here vigilanteing about under a name like Archangel. Especially as I distinctly remember him saying he'd return to C-sec to mete out justice lawfully in a principled manner. I anticipate having to give him a long lecture. Just like old times...

If I still can.

To hell with that! I'll give him a goddamn lecture even if it is entirely composed of sentence fragments and keeps the entire crew up for hours! But I suppose that will have to wait.

_"SITUATION"_

He thinks for a few seconds. "Now that their gambit has failed, they'll probably just try to swarm us. Since there's so much friction between the mercenary companies, they'll probably have to hit us separately. Since he's lowest on the totem pole, Jaroth will probably have to go first. Then-"

_"JAROTH ELIMINATED"_

He must not have been able to see from his vantage point who got splattered all over the barricades.

"Really? Nice work." He says, surprised. "Not sure if the other groups will be able to count on Eclipse's involvement then. But we've still got the Blood Pack and the Blue Suns to worry about. Garm will probably go first."

An explosion sounds from below, and an alarm on the second floor starts beeping. "And speak of the devil. I'm going to need you to get down to the basement...Um." He pauses briefly. "Do you think you can hold this position from the lower level? I need to get downstairs and hard lock those shutters."

_"WITH EASE"_

He sighs, his voice approaching closer. "I really should have fixed those things earlier, but I just didn't have the time..."

As he comes down the stairs, we see each other again for the first time in...well I suppose it's years for him. He looks...tired. His posture sags, his feet drag slightly even as he hurries downstairs. His armor, the same set he wore two years ago when he fought with me, is pitted and scarred. Although its surface could never be called polished, or shiny, it's covered in encrusted dirt and oil, speaking of poor maintenance for at least weeks longer than he's been under siege.

There were a lot of times when we were fighting Saren that we had returned to the Normandy exhausted, pushed beyond our physical limits, but Garrus had never looked...like that. I carefully consider what my next words should be.

_"YOU LOOK LIKE SHIT"_

Ooh. I had planned for something a little more comforting, but...

His laugh ends in a nasty sounding cough. "Can't say you look any better." He grins. "What, you finally decided to go for some elective surgery? Should've stuck with a nose job."

That's somewhat better.

Another explosion sounds from downstairs, accompanied by the sound of vorcha yelling from across the bridge. I turn to face them, my autocannon blazing as soon as one of them enters my field of view. Gotta focus on these guys for now. The door to the basement hisses closed as Garrus passes through.

The bridge is not without cover, but the vorcha are not particularly skilled or well trained. It quickly becomes a killing field, as they are forced to funnel into my arcs of autocannon fire and rockets.

"Archangel!" A krogan roars as he vaults over the barricade, followed by the largest group of vorcha yet. This must be Garm.

As he's probably the greatest threat, I immediately focus my fire on him. He yanks a vorcha in front of him, the lightly armored body slowing the bullets sufficiently so that they merely deflect off of his heavier armor.

I brace and fire a rocket, temporarily sacrificing my continued autocannon fire for better accuracy. The rocket slams into the ground directly in front of him, forcing him to stumble and fall briefly to his knees.

Only stumble. From a rocket only a foot away. Goddamnit, this bastard's tough even for a krogan!

Before I can capitalize on his momentary vulnerability, the vorcha behind him catch up, passing him and blocking my field of fire. I cut them down rapidly, but it seems like there's always more to take their places. I can see Garm getting up, rapidly regenerating.

Maybe I was a little overconfident there.

My shields begin to flicker dangerously; although the vorcha are not particularly good shots, and their aim is impaired by the fact that they're running at full speed, the volume of fire in my direction means that a lot of hits are getting through. If I try to take cover behind one of the larger pillars, they'll quickly overrun me.

God, I hope Garrus is doing better.

_"EDI"_

_"REQUESTING URGENT ASSISTANCE"_

_"Understood Commander. Miranda has already been updated regarding the situation. As the environmental systems have been shut off, the quarantine zone has been sealed off from the rest of Omega. They will need to finish their mission first before they can aid you."_

Damn. But even as EDI tells me the bad news, I notice there are fewer vorcha crossing the barricade. Maybe I do have a chance?

Crap. My left arm's beeping, indicating that I need to slow my rate of fire for the heat sinks to keep up. Garm's up, and he's charging fast. I fire another rocket in haste, but the fact that it's a fast moving target and that I fired without bracing means its a miss. He doesn't stumble this time.

He's too close! He slams into me, and I stagger. If I had been in my old body, I probably would have been thrown against the opposing wall, breaking and shattering my bones.

I bring down my arms to try to crush him but he catches them with his own arms. Neither us can move against each other, after a few failed attempts to headbutt my chest, he gives up, having insufficient space and leverage. Were it just the two of us, it would be a stalemate.

But it isn't.

My shields die, and the rounds of the vorcha begin to hammer my armor. Warning beeps sound, as impacts from my sides chip away at my armor.

Come to think of it, I remember a situation just like this back in combat basic.

I slowly pull back, placing one foot behind another. Garm grins victoriously, pushing even harder against my front. His footing shifts, to better apply more force.

Now!

The most powerful motors in the YMIR mech are not actually in the legs. Initially, a YMIR mech was intended to just be a moving turret, the mobility only to allow for better positioning and angle in combat. That being said, the top speed is not actually that low; it's primarily the acceleration that suffered in the design process. But because of that initial turret concept, it is to the rotation of the torso that they dedicated the most power. Aiming with just the arms is insufficient, just like a human; firing in an improper stance results in poor accuracy due to unbalanced recoil. Well, even though this sounds very impressive, even a YMIR mech can't lightly toss around a ton of krogan and armor. But what it does means, is that if a krogan is pushing very hard, I can pull off a classic move.

I sidestep abruptly, and rotate with all of my strength. Off balance, he falls over, the momentum sliding him into the column only a few feet away.

And my autocannon and rocket launcher are all cooled down.

I open fire, blasting away at his thick armor with both my weapons.

Even then he manages even despite the barrage to flip over, pulling out his shotgun. He fires, and luck is not on my side. The high powered pellets smash into my left shoulder. Warning beeps issue, and my autocannon suddenly falls, hydraulic fluid spurting rapidly from the holes. Safety valves seal shut, attempting to maintain precious pressure, but I lose the use of my left arm, and my entire body feels sluggish.

He grins in satisfaction at me, even as I raise my rocket launcher to his head, the only opening in his armor. And this time, he doesn't walk away.

While most mercenaries would at least consider retreat with their leader's death, the vorchas' aggressive nature mean they keep on fighting regardless. Without my autocannon, this could be a bit difficult.

But I manage to take out a few of them with a well placed rocket, and the door behind me hisses open, admitting Garrus who rapidly opens fire on the remaining vorcha.

"With ease Shepard?" He says, looking over my heavily pocked form.

_"GARM"_

"Yeah, he was a tough bastard. Regenerated so damn fast when I fought him one on one."

Geez, thanks for the warning.

He sighs, sitting down on one of the shelves. "Well, just the Blue Suns left!" He says in a cheerful sounding voice. "Tarak might send his lieutenant, Jentha first, just as a test."

_"ALREADY ELIMINATED"_

"Seriously? Damn, you moved fast." He shakes his head. "Then only one final boss." He looks me in the optics. "I've got a lot of questions."

Me too. If we're lucky, we both might get some answers.

Suddenly gunfire aimed at Garrus comes from the stairs leading to the second floor.

"Shit! How'd they get up there?" He swore, diving into cover behind a shelf. I shift to target them. "Shepard, watch out for the gunship, they must have gotten it repaired!"

Goddamnit, I need these warnings earlier.

Even as I try to turn, rockets explode against my back, overloading my shields in a shower of sparks. Mass accelerator rounds tear through my legs, shredding armor and wires, nearly severing my left limb.

I topple, pushing with my good arm to try to get into cover. I manage to drag myself behind a pillar.

So far Garrus is managing pretty well, keeping the open stairs clear of enemies, forcing them remain behind cover on the second floor with accurate bursts of fire.

But things as a whole...are not good.

_"EDI"_

_"Miranda and her team are enroute Commander. ETA 3-4 minutes."_

Crap.

The gunship turns its attention to Garrus, opening fire on his cover. Caught between two angles, he's forced to huddle a small space in the lee of the shelf and column. The mercenaries on top take advantage of the situation, charging down the stairs.

We can't have that.

I fire off a rocket, reminding them I'm not completely out of the fight. It hits the wall behind the stairway, the explosion throwing their bodies off the stairs while riddling them with shrapnel. But this draws the attention of the few left on the second floor, and fire sweeps my position, forcing me to push myself further back.

We're pinned. Badly...

Between the gunship on one side, and the mercenaries on top, I'm not sure how I can fight my way out of this one.

... Is this it?

Screw that. I didn't fight a Goddamn reaper just fall to some mercenary trash. I'm going to beat these bastards and their gunship, and there is going to be some way I can do it.

My optics shift, searching for an answer. There's got to be something...

Aha. It lies on the floor just a few feet away from me.

_"GARRUS"_

He glances at me, his face tired. "Looks like this might be it Shepard." He chuckles fatalistically. "But come to think of it, you never know, you might survive this one too." He says over the sound of gunfire.

_"__COVER ME"_

He stares at me in disbelief. I shove myself out into the open.

The mercenaries of course heard me, and they target me as soon as they can. The gunship begins to hover lower, to get a better angle for my demise, savoring the moment. Garrus, my loyal squadmate, obeys, popping out of cover and doing his best to lay suppressing fire. He takes advantage of the fact that they're leaning over on the second floor to get in some clean shots.

I slide to my destination. This is it. When the infiltration team arrived, they brought a little present. A bomb.

I kick it across the floor with my better leg, and luck is on my side. It skids easily towards the gunship, which has conveniently placed itself just a few feet above the ground. I can see Tarak's face in the cockpit. His eyes widen, and he pulls up frantically on the controls..

I carefully aim my second to last rocket.

"_YIPEEKIYAY MOTHERF-"_

The resulting explosion drowns out even my blaring mechanical voice.

The gunship is engulfed in an enormous ball of flame, the shockwave staggering Garrus and the two last mercenaries. Light bends from the pressure differential, blurring my sight.

If I could feel the heat, I imagine it'd be intense. The gunship explodes in a secondary explosion, sending metal shrapnel everywhere. One especially large piece whips by me, a narrow miss. Lucky again...

"Shit."

Garrus' voice, oddly wet, fills me with dread. I turn my head.

Oh shit.

SHIT!

A large piece of the gunship, probably from the cockpit, has severed his legs from the thighs down. A smaller piece has embedded itself in his torso, probably piercing his lungs if his short wet breaths are any indication.

Oh no.

Garrus.

His eyes are wide open as he gasps for air.

Medigel. Got to get medigel.

The two mercenaries on the upper level get up in the open, dazed, and I fire my last rocket at them, killing them easily, but it's done almost unconsciously.

There! On the shelf, I see a flash of dull red. I drag myself over.

Got to get it open...the end of my arm is almost to the latch before I realize.

Shit.

I smash the box open with my rocket launcher. Packets of medigel pour out.

"_Warning, pressure dropping to unsustainable levels. Insufficient power to maintain function."_

Oh.

"_Automatic shut down of external system commencing in ten seconds."_

Oh no.

I frantically shove some of the packets towards Garrus. Maybe I could squeeze them open. Like those little sauce packets. You know, apply enough pressure and they spurt open?

I drag myself closer, agonizingly slowly.

"_Five"_

Goddamnit.

"_Four"_

Just a little more time!

"_Three"_

I bring my hand down on a cluster of the packets, but they burst in the wrong direction.

"_Two"_

Shit!

"_One"_

Garrus!

My vision, all my sensors go dark. I can't move, feel, hear...

Nothing. I have no access to the outside world, no way of knowing what happens.

No way of changing what happens.

Goddamnit!

Garrus!

* * *

AN: Sorry it took so long guys, but on the other hand, this is twice as long as normal. Would you prefer faster updates and shorter chapters?

Candle in the Night: "Still makes me a little sad though, he has all the emotions of a human but trapped by the physical limitations of the mech's suit." -This. This is why I chose a YMIR mech, for that precise reason. Because it's more inconvenient than a geth or LOKI body, because it isn't easy for him. When I read your review, I really felt like my story worked.

Aledeth: Very good questions...but I don't want to spoil things. Oh, but regarding the last one, I didn't even think about it! Interesting idea though, mind if I pull a concept from it?


	6. Chapter 5: Fixing Things

The man leaned back in his chair, years of practice ensuring that he was able to maintain his calm and relaxed appearance effortlessly. "What happened Miranda?" He asked, unwilling to wait for her image to fully render.

Miranda's back stood straight, her bearing more tense than normal. She nodded curtly and explained.

* * *

_"__Operative Lawson, Shepard's power supply has shut down. He is no longer capable of defending himself. I am currently unsure as to the number of remaining hostiles. Additionally, judging from the images relayed, the turian called Garrus has been severely injured and will require immediate medical attention."_

"Shit." Miranda swore under her breath, her eyes focused forward as she flew the vehicle through the Omega tunnels at dangerously high speeds.

In the seat next to her, Jacob raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Bad news?" He asked rhetorically. He brought his hand up to his ear rather than risk distracting her further. "EDI, what's happening?"

His brow furrowed at the AI's response. "Shit. Mordin, Zaeed, know any shortcuts to sector 4-3 from here? Or from there to the docks? Looks like we may be picking up a pretty badly injured turian." He asked, turning to face the two passengers in the back.

Zaeed nodded. "Let me take the pilot seat on the next ride then."

Jacob nodded. "When we get there, first priority is to secure the YMIR mech's position. If possible, we will evacuate the turian in C-Sec armor to the Normandy."

Mordin's eyes narrowed. "A mech is first priority. Not the turian. Why?"

Jacob chuckled slightly. "Probably should have mentioned that earlier. The YMIR mech's Commander Shepard."

"I'll be obeying a robot?" Zaeed asked skeptically.

"No. Not a VI. Would've made backups if that was the case. An AI?" Mordin shook his head. "No, blue box miniaturization technology currently insufficient." He paused and smiled, a glint in his eye. "A prosthetic body."

"Not bad Professor."

"Considered by salarian scientists and engineers rather extensively, a dozen times over the past few centuries. Would extend our relatively short lifespans. Never judged to be viable." He paused again before clarifying. "Cost to benefit ratio that is, technologically quite viable for at least two hundred or so years." He tapped his chin with one long finger. "Perhaps we should have given it a closer look."

"Probably wouldn't have changed anything. From what I hear, we've had guys working on this for decades. God knows how much it's cost us over the-"

"Jacob." Miranda warned sharply from the front seat, as she forced the vehicle into a tight turn.

"Ah. Right." He said, chastened.

Mordin leaned forward from where the acceleration had pushed him against the door. "It would be useful to know how the prosthetics operate. I could offer suggestions. Corrections." His smile widened. "Upgrades."

"Not the time Mordin." Miranda replied tersely.

He nodded, leaning back and relaxing comfortably into his seat.

* * *

"Holy shit." Jacob said, looking around as he cautiously got out of the vehicle, pistol raised. "Shit." He repeated, gingerly lifting his foot from a partially incinerated pile of blood and flesh, now indented with the shape of his shoe.

"What a mess." Miranda agreed, taking a brief look across the utterly devastated bridge. The area was littered with parts of dead vorcha in red armor, with large chunks of a gunship embedded deep in the floor. The center of the bridge had been rendered completely impassable, its underlying supports lying crushed and mangled below.

Zaeed kicked a blackened limb in blue tinted armor off the bridge, grinning. "Suddenly, having to obey a robot doesn't seem like such a bad idea."

"Not a robot Zaeed. A prosthetic body." Jacob said, his voice maintaining the carefully neutral tone he had since their last conversation.

Zaeed shrugged. "If something's more than fifty percent metal by mass, it's a robot."

Jacob raised an eyebrow. "Zaeed, you do realize that a lot of things in this galaxy, including the station we're in, are over fifty percent metal?"

Zaeed was silent for a few moments. He turned and looked at Jacob evenly. "Goddamn robots, all of them." He said dismissively. He turned to Mordin, who had hurried over towards the turian immediately upon landing. "Can he move?"

"One second." Mordin replied distractedly. "Suit has already stemmed most of bleeding from torso. Legs most likely unsalvageable. May need lung tissue transplant. First priority..." He trailed off, muttering to himself, applying medigel and tape to the turian's chest. He looked up. "Grab his waist. Try not to touch the piece in his lung."

Zaeed nodded, bending to lift him. "Damn." The body had resisted movement slightly. "Looks like the left leg's still slightly attached."

Mordin frowned, before taking a long blade out from a hidden pocket somewhere along his uniform.

"Urgh." Jacob turned around from the scene, his expression uncomfortable.

"Never realized you had a problem with those kinds of things Jacob." Miranda said, kneeling over Shepard's chassis for a cursory inspection.

"Dead bodies are one thing, but I just can't handle seeing medical operations. Gives me the willies just thinking about it." He said, shivering.

She smiled slightly. "No wonder you looked so queasy when we brought Shepard in."

"Hm? Nah, that wasn't so bad. Just looked like ground beef." He frowned. "If I was queasy, it'd be because I was still getting used to cafeteria food again." He shook his head at the memory. "Delicious brown protein surprise."

Mordin and Zaeed hurried past, Garrus' torso laid out on a unfolded stretcher between them. "Mordin, Zaeed. We'll remain here to guard Shepard while you take Garrus to the Normandy." Miranda ordered.

"Understood." Miranda and Jacob watched in silence as Garrus was loaded into the back. Zaeed took the driver's seat, Mordin sat in the back with the patient, and the vehicle accelerated off. The two Cerberus operatives began their wait.

"Wanna see who can toss a body the furthest?" Jacob broke the silence.

Miranda raised an eyebrow. "Really, Jacob?" She replied, a tinge of disgust in her voice.

He grinned. "Well, if you don't think you can beat me..."

"You don't honestly think that'll work?"

Jacob shrugged in response. They stood in silence for a while longer, still waiting for the Normandy's shuttle to arrive. A crackling sound came from the ashes on the ground as a small fire spent the last of its organic fuel.

"Calling it. Second shard from the end."

* * *

Mordin typed commands into the terminal, eyes firmly focused on a screen depicting the inside of Garrus' torso. Behind him, Chakwas stood calmly observing the operation. She glanced up as Miranda lightly tapped the medical bay's windows. Miranda opened and closed her mouth, cocking her head and motioning towards the bay's exit.

"Status?" Miranda asked, as soon as the door slid open.

"Of which one?"

"Which one's more urgent?"

"Thankfully neither." Chakwas replied, shrugging.

Miranda blinked. "I would have thought the turian would be in significantly worse condition."

Chakwas nodded. "I suppose so. But at the speed which he was recovered, his life was never in danger."

"I'm pretty sure we only recovered half of him?"

"And how much did you recover of Shepard? Personally, I've always felt amazement at modern medical technology advances, no matter how familiar I become with them." Chakwas said, smiling lightly. Her tone became more professional as she continued explaining. "C-sec armor is fairly well designed. As soon as the severity of the damage was detected, a great deal of medigel and some turian specific clotting agents was dispersed locally to the wound, before any significant hemorrhaging occurred. He's lost his legs permanently, but that injury wouldn't have been enough to kill him."

Miranda nodded. "And the shrapnel in his chest?

"It did result in fairly severe injury to his left lung, and nicked the edge of his right." Chakwas replied, frowning. "But Mordin's performing a transplant using tissue from his clinic right now."

Miranda raised an eyebrow. "You aren't handling the operation yourself? I'm surprised; in my experience trying to bring Shepard back, I found most doctors to be disturbingly possessive of their own equipment."

"If it'd been you with the injury, Mordin would have to step over my dead body before I'd let him handle my stuff. But I'm ashamed to say I don't have nearly as much experience with alien physiology as I should have."

"From your assignment on the Normandy, I would have thought that among Alliance doctors you'd have more than most."

Chakwas chuckled. "Hardly. Back then, whenever Shepard took his group ashore, I would always pray that if someone got shot in the gut, that'd it be one of the humans. Somehow that always worked." She finished cheerily.

Miranda winced. "Speaking as one of the humans, please, stop. Now, about Shepard?"

"As soon as his system powered down, mild sedatives were released into his system. I could reset the filtration devices and add some stimulants to counteract the effect if you need him up, but I'd rather just let him sleep it off."

"That should be fine. It may be better to have Garrus up before Shepard."

Chakwas paused, giving Miranda an evaluating look. "It won't take nearly that long for the sedative levels to drop. But that's considerate of you."

"Thank you." Miranda chose to answer in a professional tone. "And on the mechanical side? Or should I ask Rupert?" Miranda asked, gesturing to the crewmember busy in the kitchen.

"Well, they've repressurized his system and added some temporary seals. The power source has been replaced, so all of his higher level functions are available."

"And the limbs?"

Chakwas frowned. "You'll have to ask Rupert about that, but I understand they've been having some problems repairing his legs."

"Understood. Well then, I'll let you continue observing Mordin's operation." Miranda said crisply.

"I do have to make sure he doesn't change too many of my settings."

"Possessive."

Chakwas laughed softly in response as she walked back into the medbay.

"Gardner." Miranda called out.

"Yeah?" He asked without turning around. He dipped a spoon into the boiling pot, tasting its contents before grimacing in disgust, tossing the remainder into the sink and placing the utensil on the side.

"Are you finished repairing Shepard?"

"Nope." He said, stirring the pot slowly with the ladle. "But people still got to eat, and no one else is taking care of this. You volunteering?" A large brown glop slowly slid off the spoon, landing in the sink with a disturbing sounding plop.

Miranda frowned, ignoring the question. "The repairs take priority. If necessary, I can assign one of the other crew members to handle the cooking." She turned towards the table next to the mess. "Hawthorne!"

"Yes!" The crewman straightened, standing from his chair hurriedly.

"Congratulations, you're the new temporary cook." She ordered.

"But-" He sputtered.

The woman eating across him snorted. "Maybe you'll complain less about the food now Hawthorne."

"Listen to the pot calling the kettle black!" Hawthorne retorted.

"And thank you Goldstein for volunteering to assist him." Miranda said crisply. "Rupert, if you would follow me?"

"Alright, be right down." He said, taking off his apron and lobbing it in a high arc towards Hawthorne. "Maybe you'll be able to get it a little less tasting like shit."

* * *

"So, what's the delay with getting it to one hundred percent?" Miranda asked curtly, standing in front of the mech prone on the floor.

Rupert sighed. "Miss, we just don't have the expertise. I've started fixing the two main joints in the knee and ankle, using some spare parts that Kelly picked up in Omega. So Shepard'll be able to apply linear force along the limb. But the balance mechanisms, hell, even the rotation mechanisms are a lot different from the heavy machinery I used to work with."

Miranda frowned. "And the other engineers?"

"Ha! They don't know jack about work like this." Rupert adopted a parody of a Scottish accent. "What's that thing with the flames coming out of the end?" He shook his head. "They spend all of their time working on consoles, fiddling with electronics." He paused, before amending his statement. "Well, I suppose they're not that bad; Patel's got some remarkable skill with flexible wiring, and Rolston knows his way around machinery enough to help me with the left leg."

"But not enough."

"Nope. No one's got enough experience with these kinds of things. If you want to bring him up to one hundred percent, you're gonna have to find someone else."

Miranda paused, thinking. "YMIR designs are generally modular. Would it be possible to replace the entire leg?"

"From what I can tell from the blueprints and the remaining parts, no can do Miss. It's been heavily modded, so if we do replace it with a standard part, we'd have to cut a lot of functionality. Not sure we'd ever be able to get it back either."

"Alright, I'll see what I can do." Miranda said, sighing.

* * *

"This was already in your report Miranda." The man said, taking a draw from his cigarette. "My question had a different intent."

She nodded. "Shepard's actions were foolhardy and impulsive. From my reading of his files and mission reports I had inferred a far calmer and rational temperament."

"And was a change of behavior entirely unexpected?"

"I had previously believed that arranging for Joker and Chakwas to be on the crew would provide a sufficiently stabilizing influence. It was necessary to assign them the same duties as they previously occupied on the Normandy, but it also meant that I apparently overestimated the effect they'd have on Shepard."

He nodded calmly at her admission of error. "What about Garrus?"

She frowned. "I've taken a look at the files EDI copied me from Shepard's optics. They were...not encouraging. Chakwas and Joker provide Shepard with a point of stability because they have remained fairly unchanged over the past two years. I am unsure if the same can be said about our new arrival."

"Would it be beneficial to have him leave the ship?"

"I'd like to wait, to see how they interact first." She said, shaking her head.

"Very well then. Now, regarding your request for the transfer of a technician, I've acquired some information that could be useful." He said, tapping a button on his armrest. "We've managed to learn the location of the quarian who served with Shepard, as well as the nature of her mission. Given Shepard's immediate need of repairs, it may be easier to convince her along this time."

Miranda frowned. "I would much prefer it if someone can be transferred from one of the other cells."

"Not an option."

"Not even from Dr. Chandana's group? I know he had several with the right expertise. Surely he can spare one?"

"Not at this time Miranda. As it is, your only other options are either to find a technician either on your own or from Cord-Hislop." He took another deep draw. "The best of those already work for us, but you may be able to find someone in company files."

"It may be better to have a known factor then." Miranda said slowly.

"Is there a reason for your reluctance?" The man asked, raising an eyebrow.

"While it is important for Shepard to be able to adapt to the new situation, it is equally important that we maintain his dependence." Miranda said bluntly. "In short, I would prefer that he not get too comfortable, emotionally speaking.. Adding another one of his old crew may tip that balance."

The man nodded. "Then I'll leave that decision to you Miranda."

* * *

_"ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL"_

The speakers of the mech loudly announced Shepard's return to consciousness.

"Good to see you awake Shepard." Miranda said, standing in front of him.

The mech inclined its head forward to look at the woman standing at his feet.

_"GARRUS"_

"He's currently recuperating from a partial lung transplant. I understand he'll be awake soon." She said, walking alongside its body towards its head

She continued in a hard tone. "But that's not why I'm down here. Do you realize how much Cerberus has spent to revive you? Taking on three mercenary groups by yourself for an anonymous vigilante? It may have turned out to be Garrus this time, but you could have just as easily died for some criminal with delusions of grandeur!"

_"ADMITTEDLY A MISTAKE"_

The mech shrugged, only one shoulder moving.

_"A FORTUNATE ONE"_

Miranda raised an eyebrow. "Your flippancy is not appreciated." She said coldly.

The head mount bobbed slightly.

_"APOLOGIES"_

Miranda blinked in surprise, taken off guard by the response. Shepard's head twisted to regard her new position more directly.

_"MIRANDA"_

_"WHY WAS I NOT INFORMED OF RECRUITMENT"_

"You were. I assume you did take the time to read the dossiers?" She said, a mildly disapproving tone in her voice.

The mech was silent, its red gaze still.

_"DO NOT BE DELIBERATELY OBTUSE"_

Miranda paused slightly before she answered, an irritated look on her face. "It was anticipated that we would simply pick up two new members of the crew. Since neither combat nor any complicated decision making was expected, I judged it unnecessary to provide a running update of my every action."

_"I SEE"_

A strange clicking sound came from behind the mech's optics, the focusing mechanisms apparently having been jarred slightly out of place in the past battle. Its head tilted questioningly.

_"UNDERMINING MY AUTHORITY"_

"Paranoid much Shepard?" Miranda asked, a carefully placed note of sardonic amusement in her voice.

_"JUSTIFIABLY SO"_

"Sooner or later Shepard, you're going to have to realize that Cerberus only has humanity's best interests at heart."

_"THAT MAY EVEN BE TRUE"_

The mech shrugged again.

_"STILL EVIL"_

"Evil. Really, Shepard. Are you normally so simplistic with your descriptions?" After her words, a short silence ensued. She sighed. "I admit, sometimes we do cross the line a bit more than I'm comfortable with. But Cerberus' actions have always been done to further advance and protect humanity. That's more than you can say about most organizations." She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "I seem to recall a certain spectre crossing many a line to catch Saren."

_"LEGAL LINES"_

_"LINES OF COMMAND"_

_"BUT MORAL LINES"_

The mech's optics blazed brighter in the dim hangar.

_"MORAL LINES SHOULD BE INVIOLATE"_

She frowned. "I would have thought you'd be a little more reasonable. A naïve viewpoint like-

_"NAIVE"_

Shepard's arm slammed into the hangar floor with a loud clang.

Miranda remained unflinching at the noise. After a long pause she spoke. "No. You're right. I don't imagine anyone could become a N7 if they were naïve. A lucky idealist then. But Shepard, sooner or later, you're going to have to realize that our galaxy cannot be fixed with perfect and charming solutions. One day, your idealism is going to have to end."

Shepard slumped with a loud hiss.

_"__I KNOW"_

Its head bowed, almost touching its chest. She followed its gaze instinctively, down towards its white torso, only then noticing the ever present soft background hum of a mechanical pump sounding from within those cold ceramic plates.

She stood, her mouth opening and closing slightly, unsure of what to say next. Only the soft hum could still be heard between the two; Shepard lost in his own thoughts, and Miranda reevaluating the risks and benefits of her possible options. Finally, she spoke confidently. "Let's talk about our next destination. We've received information regarding Tali's location and mission. As we apparently are in great need of an engineer who's qualified to repair you, I would recommend heading to Haestrom to see if we can recruit her."

The mech brought its head back up, twisting it questioningly.

_"ALREADY ORDERED"_

Miranda frowned. "Really, Shepard. We were waiting for your decision. You are in command, whether you believe it or not. I'll forward you the mission parameters we've managed to learn about to your terminal if you require more information to decide."

Shepard shook his head, his torso straightening.

_"NO NEED"_

_"TO HAESTROM THEN"_

_

* * *

_

AN: Whoa, this took way too long. Two reasons, really. I was playing around with the idea of killing off Garrus. I'd like to say I didn't do it for literary reasons, in order to maintain the story's tone, but honestly, I just don't have the guts. Also, I've always found Miranda a bit hard to write. I started writing the next one halfway through this one, just because I found it so much easier. Course, that didn't make this one come any quicker, but it may make the next arrive sooner.

Daarb123: I'd like to say the story isn't about Shepard per se, it's about Shepard saving the galaxy. And as such it's not really a solo job, something that I hoped to show (and maybe failed to) with the last action seen.. In addition, although it may be a bit overambitious, I'd like to cover other characters as well, not only their reactions to Shepard, but exploring interactions between them that weren't really covered in the game. That being said, you're quite right, the scenes with those four were uninventive and boring. I didn't really feel satisfied with how they came out, as I feel that I should have been able to come up with original scenes rather than directly pulling from the game. I'm still not entirely sure how to fix those, but maybe I'll come up with something creative later.

In addition, although it may be a bit late, go ahead with your story idea. (I would have given you a positive answer sooner, but you reviewed anonymously...so no way of doing so.) ...I would like to say though, LOKI's look sorta...Yeah.

Lousy Poet Automaton: The same upgrades are probably not applicable. But he'll get some. All sorts. And let me just say, I was playing with the idea of him helping Samara the exact same way, you know, the dancing, the punching, the drinking...the flirting.

"_LET US TALK ABOUT JUSTICARS"_

Shepard's such a smooth talker.


	7. Chapter 6: Waiting Games

It's hot.

It's incredibly hot.

I'm sitting in the shade, making as efficient movements as possible, and my environmental suit's peltier chips are working overtime.

And it's still so...unbearable.

Of course, it's exactly at this time, in the middle of the day when it is the absolute hottest, that all of our drills abruptly stop working.

A bit of a sidenote; one remarkably peculiar tendency about humans I discovered while working on the Normandy is their tendency to anthropomorphize machinery. When a perfectly random event would cause a fluctuation in the readings from the zero core, Adams might say something the lines of "She's feeling a bit nervous today." A bit nervous?

Machines don't have feelings, or souls, or anything like that. There's probably some human specific biological basis behind this irrationality, since we quarians certainly don't share it. The Normandy was a beautiful ship, an unparalleled masterpiece of engineering, but it certainly couldn't feel anything.

That being said...

I am now confident that these drills hate us with every fiber of their mechanical beings.

And the one I'm working on?

This one hates me in particular.

"Come on..." I mutter as I try to force a fitting onto the pipe.

"Need any help ma'am?" Kal'reegar asks, walking towards me, stepping carefully around a pair of mechanics stripping a broken excavator for extra parts.

I shake my head. "Thanks...but I should be able to handle this," I say, throwing my weight behind the wrench. It finally gives just a bit, and I sigh in relief.

A small snap sounds, just barely audible.

Oh no. It did not just...

Metal comes apart in my fingers. The extra small coaxial pipe containing maybe a dozen rigid internal fibers has just snapped. The one for which, of course, we don't have any replacements.

Before I can stop myself, I find myself hurling the wrench at the wall.

*Clang*

"The repairs still aren't going well I take it," Kal'reegar says mildly, kneeling to put the wrench away properly.

"It's all these temperature extremes. These materials just aren't meant to handle this stress." I rap the machine in front of me with the broken pipe. A worrisome set of soft rattles follows. "It doesn't help that most of these drills predate even the Flotilla."

"Certainly seems to have put a damper on your mood."

"Is it that noticeable?"

He shrugs. "The other technicians have certainly noticed enough to talk about the past few days."

I look around at the surrounding engineers. They're studiously focusing on their own work. Moreso than they were just a minute ago. I let out yet another sigh, unconsciously scratching my faceplate.

Kal'Reegar looks at me for a few moments before he speaks. "I'm guessing recent events with your old commander are still bothering you?" he asks in a quiet tone.

Ah...

Well, maybe it'll help.

I take a seat on the machine, and lean against the wall behind it. The relative coolness calms me a bit.

"It's been on my mind," I admit. Something of an understatement if I'm completely honest. "And it's really only a possibility it's Shepard." I add. Which is what bothers me the most.

Maybe it is him. But until I open him up, poke around a bit with the wiring, I can't know. And to hope...I shouldn't. What if it is just a trick?

"Not sure what I'd do if my old commander suddenly showed up." Kal'Reegar sighs, leaning against the same wall next to me, arms crossed over his chest. A chuckle escapes. "Heh, I'd try to put that old bastard back into space."

I remember hearing stories when I was younger about Reegar's commander. Apparently he had been shot over fifteen times in a particularly intense firefight. The squad's sealant had been all used up after a long time in the field, and they were sure he was done for then and there. He fired off a dozen rounds, popped out the still smoking cartridges (yes, he still used a cartridge weapon back then), and used them to cauterize his wounds and suit, sealing off all the openings in both suit and flesh, before proceeding to leap out of cover and shooting the remaining geth in the face.

He died a few hours later, of course. But that story and others much like it lead me to reply skeptically, "Oh? I'd think you'd be on the losing end if you tried."

"I've learned a few tricks since then..." He protests.

Unconvincingly I might add.

A loud beep sounds from the radio at his belt interrupts his tenuous defense.

"We've got an incoming vessel vectoring towards sector A4, ETA 3 minutes," a voice reports.

"Geth?" Kal'Reegar asks sharply, turning slightly away.

"No, it's a regular shuttle." The voice is silent for a few moments. "I think the markings are Cerberus."

Cerberus? The only reason I can think of for them to be here...

"Secure the landing zone, but do not fire unless fired upon. Boss won't like it if we get a bit trigger happy," he orders, turning to back towards me. "Well, looks like you'll be resolving your little issue sooner than you think."

"That'd be nice." I say somewhat numbly, getting up.

Come to think of it, I think I rather like being called Boss. Has a nice ring to it. Much better than ma'am.

"I'm sorry to hear that ma'am," he says blandly.

I give him a glare. Yet another habit picked up from Normandy. "Come on, let's go before one of your marines gives in to temptation."

* * *

When Tali and Kal'reegar arrived at the shuttle landing pad, they found the two Cerberus operatives leaning casually against the front of the shuttle, deliberately appearing unthreatened by the surrounding quarian marines.

"Miss Zorah," Miranda says, greeting her calmly.

"Just the two of you? Why, did Shepard finally come to his senses?" Tali asked archly.

"Nah, he's still in the back," Jacob responded as he moved to the rear of the shuttle. "We just wanted to be a bit cautious. Not sure how these marines would react if Shepard suddenly popped out, heavy firepower and all." He grinned. "The guy on the right's looking particularly twitchy."

The marine hoisted his rifle to shoulder with one hand, freeing up his other to make a universally obscene gesture. Jacob laughed as he popped the shuttle latch. A loud bang sounded from the shuttle as the mech limped out, arm wedged against the side for support. It gingerly placed its bad leg on the concrete, before sliding all the way out.

"Your leg!" Tali exclaimed in surprise, running over to inspect the damaged mech as it carefully maneuvered itself. "What happened?"

"He got shot up by a gunship after it took him by surprise."

Shepard nodded in response. A few quiet beeps sounded from Tali's omnitool as it displayed the internal structure of the limb. "High caliber shots...they really shredded the internal mechanisms," she murmured, absently poking a finger through one of the larger holes.

"_OUCH"_

She jerked back, looking up at it in surprise.

The mech looked down at her, as usual no expression visible on its mount.

"_A JOKE"_

It said after a moment.

"I thought it might be, but..." she started, her voice somewhat embarrassed.

"Think you could fix him?" Miranda interrupted, approaching her from behind.

Tali stiffened upon hearing Miranda's voice, straightening to face her. "I believe we've already discussed this," she said, her voice disapproving. "Don't tell me Cerberus has suddenly run out of mechanics?"

"Actually, yes," Miranda admitted. She held out a hand to forestall Tali's reply. "But that's not the only reason we're here. We've come to see if there's any way we could help with your mission."

Tali crossed her arms, looking at her skeptically.

"It would be in both of our best interests if we could expedite your recruitment for our own."

"And what makes you think you can help?"

"Your current mission is to study the sun's unusual behavior. Part of the mission parameters are to obtain core samples from the planet, most likely to be the most difficult and time consuming step."

Tali remained silent.

Miranda continued, "We've brought some of the latest mining equipment, designed for work in high radiation environments. Two of our crew members are extensively trained in their usage, and will be able to bring your team up to speed regarding the operation of the new machines."

Tali sighed deeply. "I don't suppose it'd do any good to ask how you managed to find out about what was supposed to be a highly classified mission."

"You can hardly expect otherwise," Miranda said reasonably.

"We could try interrogating them," the marine from before volunteered eagerly. Jacob tensed, hand twitching towards the weapons at his waist as Kal'Reegar moved into action.

*Whack*

The marine's head jerked forward from the impact.

"Thanks Reegar."

"No problem ma'am. He should have known better than to voice our plans," Kal'Reegar replied.

"Reegar!"

"Sorry, sorry," he chuckled unrepentantly. Jacob cautiously relaxed at the exchange

"I need a few moments of silence to think," She ordered.

A minute passed in quiet. An enormous crash drew everyone's attention, as several tons of ceramic slid into the concrete next to the shuttle. Shepard ignored the looks, shifting its legs out from under it.

"Fetch one of the flatbeds from the repair team for Cerberus' use; we should still have several extra," Tali told a technician standing behind her before turning to Miranda. "How soon can your people and equipment arrive?"

"They're still in low orbit, but they're ready to take a shuttle down as soon as we give the signal."

"In orbit? You're keeping your ship in orbit around a geth planet?" Reegar interrupted, disbelief in his voice.

"A stealth ship," Tali said, her voice neutral. "Cerberus must have had access to at least part of the Normandy's designs."

"All of them actually," Miranda said modestly. "The ship's design is very close to the original, barring some increases in both functionality and size."

"It's also a lot more efficient," Jacob said cheerfully, "The onboard AI allows for a relatively reduced crew size, so it was easy enough to..." Jacob suddenly stopped speaking, aware of the suddenly tense atmosphere.

Tali broke the uncomfortable silence. "An AI? You're inviting me onto a floating death trap Shepard."

"EDI's not that bad...right Shepard?" Jacob asked, turning to the mech, who looked away quickly. "Besides, the ship's pretty amazing even ignoring the AI. It has a bar on one of the decks!"

"A bar," Tali repeated dryly, crossing her arms.

"Er...Miranda, help me out here," Jacob asked, only to receive a raised eyebrow from the other operative in response.

Jacob was saved when a small alarm on Tali's arm started flashing. She checked her omnitool in response. "I need to get back to work. When the engineers arrive from orbit, send them over so I can brief them on what needs to be done. Reegar, if you could assign a detail?"

She turned back to the mech, as if about to say something more, only to be cut off by a more insistent beep from her omnitool. "We'll talk more later," she said before hurrying off.

They watched her retreating back silently.

"Was that as warm a reception as you were hoping for Shepard?" Miranda asked neutrally.

The mech remained silent.

"Well, at least we didn't get shot at." Jacob answered.

* * *

"_CHECKMATE"_

"Damn it," Jacob swore, looking at the board. "How the hell did I walk into that?"

The two made an mismatched pair as they sat on the floor of the flatbed in the shade of a stone building, a large chessboard placed between them.

"_VICTORY"_

The mech reached out carefully, tipping the white king over. "He started setting that trap up three turns ago," Miranda observed. "If you had been playing more aggressively, instead of those futile defensive moves you always do, you could have disrupted that sequence."

"Is she right this time too?" Jacob asked in irritation.

"_UNFORTUNATELY"_

"Damn."

Miranda frowned at the exchange. "Jacob, move over." Jacob obliged, and Miranda sat cross-legged in his earlier position. The two reset the board to its initial state, barring one white pawn near the center.

Shepard carefully reached out and shifted a black pawn forward. Miranda immediately followed, moving a knight with a loud clack.

Jacob leaned back as Miranda and Shepard played out their game.

*click*

*shuff*

*click*

An hour passed.

"I'm getting bored here."

"Check." Miranda moved her bishop forward.

"How much longer do you think we're going to have to wait?"

"Jacob," she said in a carefully controlled tone, turning to look at him. "How many times have you asked that question today?"

He frowned contemplatively. "Fourth time today?"

"Fifth."

"No kidding?"

"Fifth time," Miranda enunciated.

A series of tinkles from falling pieces sounded from behind her.

"_OOPS"_

The mech froze, its arm above the large pieces scattered over the table.

Miranda sighed. "That's alright Shepard." She began to reset the board to the beginning, piece by piece. Suddenly she paused, her hand hovering above a fallen knight. "Shepard."

The mech cocked its head inquisitively.

"You were trying to change the board while my back was turned weren't you?"

Shepard remained silent.

Her eyes narrowed. "I can tell from the angle and position at which they fell. You were trying to move both the knight and pawn to the left to free up your queen to move."

"_IMPRESSIVE DEDUCTION"_

"Flattery Shepard? Really?"

The mech shrugged before tilting his head to the other side.

"_ANOTHER GAME"_

"With you?" Miranda asked frostily. "I'll pass."

"Rematch Shepard!" Jacob said, getting up. "Move over Miranda," he said, taking her place at the board as she got up.

"_VICTORY WILL BE MINE"_

"You wish, now that I know what to look out for..." Jacob said, finishing replacing the pieces.

"Shepard moving the pieces while your back's turned?" Miranda asked, her voice still cold as she sat down on the edge of the trailer.

"Relax Miranda, it's all just part of the game." Shepard nodded in agreement behind him.

Her eyebrow rose. "And where exactly did you learn how to play chess Jacob?"

"Alliance training actually. Same for you, right Shepard?"

"_EXTRA LESSONS IN N7 TRAINING"_

"And did they teach you that moving multiple pieces in a turn was allowed?"

Jacob looked at Shepard and grinned. "Only if you get away with it." The mech nodded, raising its arm.

Miranda ignored the two and turned back to her reports as Jacob leaned over and met the autocannon with his fist.

*click*

*shuff*

*click*

Another hour passed.

"Are you sure that was a good move?" Miranda asked from behind Jacob.

"_CHECK"_

"See, if you had moved the bishop here instead of..." Miranda said, finger hovering over a square behind Shepard's knight.

"Did you want to play Miranda?" said Jacob, slamming the piece in his hand down in exasperation.

"Depends. Is the other option is to watch the two of you fumble at it?" Miranda answered. "Bad move by the way."

"_CHECK"_

"Goddamn it," Jacob said, frowning at the board. He looked up, eyes focusing on a point behind Shepard. "Tali'Zorah! Please tell me you're almost done here."

The mech remained stationary.

"_NICE TRY JACOB"_

"I'm serious. Turn around Shepard."

"_HELL NO"_

"Is this is a game of vital importance I shouldn't be interrupting?" Tali asked as she approached the trailer.

Shepard's optical mount swiveled to face her.

"_CAN WE LEAVE YET"_

"Shepard," she said disapprovingly. "Are you going to ask me that every time I manage to catch a small break?"

"_YES"_

He replied immediately.

She sighed. "Could you at least have given that answer a little thought?"

The optics flickered for a few moments before its head turned from side to side.

"I suppose it's good to see that you're still just as incapable at feeling shame." She glanced at the board behind him. "I thought this was the game where only one piece could be moved?"

The mech's head whirled back to the board.

"Gah!" Jacob said, dropping the knight and rook in resignation. "Tali, why would you do that?"

Shepard chuffed.

"_NICE TRY JACOB"_

The mech started moving pieces back.

"Whoa, whoa, I only moved the knight and rook!"

Shepard paused briefly, looking up.

"_PENALTY STRIKE"_

"...Fine." Jacob grumbled, sitting back with his arms crossed.

"_CHECK"_

Suddenly Jacob grinned. "Handicap! A handicap for the previous winner is in order. The loser gets to move one extra piece," he said, grabbing and slamming down his queen adjacent to the opposing king in a decidedly non regulation move.

"Checkmate."

Shepard considered the board carefully.

"_I CONCEDE"_

"Sweet, sweet victory," Jacob crowed in satisfaction.

"Compared to quarian games, human board games seem to be considerably more flexible." Tali remarked, looking at the board.

Jacob nodded. "We're taught how to play in Alliance training in order to help with lateral strategic thinking, as well as with negotiation skills."

"That is not how the game is played!" Miranda said, a trace of irritation seeping through her voice.

Jacob unsuccessfully hid a grin. "Don't be getting angry just because you're not as good at the other half of the game Miranda."

"Alright. You and me, one more game," Miranda said, moving her work to the side. "And I'll even allow you to use that handicap Jacob. We all know you'll need it," she added mockingly.

"See? My negotiation skills have already paid off!"

Shepard turned towards Tali as Miranda visibly attempted to calm herself.

"_SO HOW IS WORK"_

The mech shuffled to the side of the flatbed, tapping the edge besides him. Tali obliged, hopping up to sit. "Slow. The second layer of bedrock's seems even harder than the first. It's taking much longer than planned to drill through and obtain the samples."

The mech cocked its head.

"_HAVE YOU TRIED A GIANT LASER"_

"Mm. Because that worked so well last time."

"_ENORMOUS HOLE"_

The mech raised its arms high.

"_SUCCESS"_

She chuckled. "You almost got us all killed Shepard. If that seismic event occurred just a bit earlier...I distinctly remember barely making it to the entrance."

"_GOOD TIMES THOUGH"_

"Yes," she said gazing up at his headmount. "They were, weren't they?" The two sat comfortably in the following silence ignoring the increasingly loud clicks and swears behind them.

"It wouldn't work by the way," Tali said suddenly, breaking the silence between the two. "It's a very different type of work blasting an opening between two hollow spaces and drilling a hole into bedrock."

"_I SEE"_

Shepard nodded again before asking.

"_IS CERBERUS ANY USE"_

"We're always useful." Jacob said distractedly.

"The engineers came surprisingly well prepared, and their equipment is certainly of better quality than ours." Tali's voice showed noticeable irritation. "I'd even say that Cerberus has been preparing for this mission longer than I have."

"Shouldn't have left that bishop exposed Jacob." Miranda said, flicking the piece across the board. "How are those negotiation skills doing now?"

"How can you stand working with these people Shepard?" Tali asked bluntly.

"_CERBERUS OR THESE TWO"_

"That's because he understands..." Miranda began to answer, turning towards them before she whirled back towards Jacob. "I saw that!"

"And what are you going to do about it?" Jacob asked mockingly, his hands spread apart.

Miranda's hand glowed blue in response as she lunged at the surprised operative.

*crack*

"My nose! Damn it Miranda, I think you broke it!" Jacob cried out, clutching his nose as drops of blood splattered on the board.

Miranda's face was unsympathetic. "A fitting punishment for trying to move a piece while my back was turned!"

"That's because it was my damn turn!" He responded indignantly.

"Ah..." Miranda's expression showed a brief and rare moment of chagrin. She looked down at the board and up again. "My mistake."

"I'm going to head back to the shuttle for some more medigel." Jacob got up, his head tilted back.

"For a broken nose? Since when have you needed so much coddling. Just set that thing back in place," Miranda said, no trace of her earlier remorse remaining as she reached out with her hand towards his nose.

"Hell no!" Jacob backed up quickly. "You aren't putting those hands any where near this face again. I'm numbing it before I set it."

Miranda raised an eyebrow.

"Besides, I don't want to hear that from the person who quarantined an entire subsection of the space station because she was completely convinced she caught dengue fever," Jacob said.

"That was an entirely different situation. And I'll have you know the symptoms were textbook. Quarantine was necessary to prevent risk while the project was in its vulnerable phase." Miranda responded coolly.

"You had a common cold."

"My immune system was engineered to be highly resistant to such things. It's only natural that I expected the virus capable of infecting me to be far worse."

"I'm sorry, but all I heard was wah, wah, genetic engineering." Miranda's eyes narrowed before she suddenly lunged forward hand once again reaching for his nose. Narrowly avoiding her strike, Jacob broke into a run.

"Shepard, did that woman just break her subordinate's nose over a board game?"

"_LOOKS LIKE IT"_

"Then both."

"_AFTER YOU GET TO KNOW THEM"_

The mech paused.

"They're not that bad?" Tali finished questioningly.

"_THEY ARE WORSE"_

Tali gave him a level look, crossing her arms.

Shepard shrugged.

"_I STILL DO NOT KNOW THEM"_

"It hasn't been that long since you woke up."

He nodded in confirmation.

"_AS FOR CERBERUS"_

Shepard went silent. Tali waited patiently for him, slowly swinging her legs back and forth under the trailer.

"_WE DO WHAT WE MUST"_

"Duty weighs upon us all," she said, as if quoting a mantra from childhood.

"_PERHAPS"_

"_BUT IT IS NOT JUST A BURDEN"_

She tilted her head in response, curious as to what he would say.

"_IT IS THE STEEL THAT SUPPORTS US"_

"_OUR LIGHT THROUGH UNCERTAINTY"_

"_THE FUEL FOR OUR ZEAL"_

The mech intoned those words solemnly, its gaze fixed on the bright horizon before it.

Tali regarded him carefully in silence, before finally asking. "So which holovid did that come from?"

The mech chuffed, air hissing out of the joints in its neck.

"_NOT TELLING"_

* * *

AN: Whoa, it's been a while hasn't it. But voila, a new chapter. And the next chapter is going to be substantially more amazing. Expect explosions, violence, and dwwaama, in a substantially shorter amount of time.


End file.
